


Two Brides and the Bellas

by Galpalkru



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Humor, I promise I'm avoiding the angst on this one, PP2 Spoilers, Post-PP2, but only minor, endgame bechloe, endgame staubrey, ps cynthia rose's wife is basically the best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-05 00:09:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 67,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4158201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galpalkru/pseuds/Galpalkru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few months after graduation, the Bellas are reunited at Cynthia Rose’s wedding. Someone is a bit too stubborn about a bet, alcohol flows freely, and Amy requires a tuxedo for her iPad. Don’t we all just want to live happily ever after at a wedding?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Boomerang

**Author's Note:**

> So obviously everyone and their mother has written something about the Bellas going to Cynthia Rose’s wedding. I do not care. This is my entry, and it will be as fluffy as I can physically manage (I don’t exactly know how much that is). Hope you like it, and here we go.

“So you still refuse to download Venmo?”

 

Beca dropped her phone onto her bed, pressing the speaker button. “I’m sorry if I don’t want my identity stolen or something,” she muttered. Hands freed, she continued her battle with the suitcase on her floor, grunting as she attempted to force the zipper closed.

 

“What is that noise?” Chloe’s voice was garbled and tinny, due in no small part to the poor connection at her parent’s house in the middle of nowhere. “It sounds like you’re having sex. Oh my god, did you pick up when you and Jesse were having sex?”

 

Beca bit her lip, slowly refolding a shirt that had stubbornly gotten caught in the zipper. “No, Chlo. I’m alone.”

 

“Thank god,” Chloe said. “I mean, we all made jokes about how you and Jesse probably had incredibly vanilla sex or whatever but like I never thought it would be _so_ bad that you’d have a phone conversation _in flagrante delicto_.”

 

“Can we please stop talking about me having sex with Jesse?” It came out harsher than she’d intended, and she flopped down on the bed next to her phone. “Sorry. Also, when did you learn Latin?”

 

Chloe giggled. “C’mon Becs, if I couldn’t handle a little snap like that, we wouldn’t have made it through four years of friendship.” Beca stared at the ceiling, eyes tracing the pattern of the stupid glow-in-the-dark stars that she’d stuck up there when she was eight. “But anyways, you’re still going to be a dinosaur?”

 

“Can’t I just like mail you a check or something?”

 

“You’re adorable.” Beca reflexively stuck out her tongue at the phone. “You seem to have forgotten in your old age how slow the postal service is. Besides, aren’t you getting on some absurdly long flight in like…two hours?”

 

Beca picked up her phone, cursing as she confirmed that Chloe was in fact, correct. “How the hell do you know my schedule better than I do?”

 

“Please, we never would’ve gotten to any Bella performances on time if I’d left you in charge. You’re the brooding musician, I’m the high-strung choreographer who keeps everything working. It’s why we’re perfect together.” She paused. “We should really have a Broadway show or something. Though it’d probably help if we were gay men.”

 

Beca was avoiding processing this monologue by lying on top of her suitcase, her tiny frame accomplishing little to further her goals. Eventually, with the help of three textbooks she’d been too lazy to sell and an old Star Wars box set that Jesse had given her, she barely pulled the zipper across, falling backwards onto the floor and gasping for air.

 

“Beca? Did you die there?” Beca dragged herself to the edge of her bed, blindly reaching around for her phone.

 

She knocked the phone on to the floor before turning off the speaker and pressing it to her ear. “Sort of feels like it,” Beca replied. “Ummmmm okay. Do you really need my chunk of the gift money right now?”

 

“You’re forgetting the cost of the hotel. And yeah, kinda. Stace is putting part of it on her credit card but she’s got med school bills and everything to pay so I took what I could.”

 

Beca sighed. “All right, tell me how this Venmo thing works.”

 

“Bless my stars,” Chloe drawled, affecting the Southern accent that Beca had only heard after particularly heavy doses of Jiggle Juice. “I’m bringing Beca Mitchell into the 21st century.”

 

“Oh please. Are you forgetting that time you crashed my computer because you tried to download what you claimed was a puppy video and actually turned out to be a virus-ridden copy of Fifty Shades of Grey?”

 

“I stand by that decision. I wasn’t going to support a movie that misrepresents and sensationalizes certain types of sexual relationships—“ Beca snorted “—but also there’s Jamie Dornan to consider.”

 

“You have strong morals, and I have to respect that.” The Venmo app was downloading, the icon appearing over Chloe’s face in her background photo of them from Worlds. Beca dragged it down to the corner of the screen, pausing for a moment as those blue eyes, barely losing their luminescence in the photo, stared back up at her.

 

She spent the next few minutes picking a password and username and fighting to recall her Facebook password in order to connect the networks as Chloe rambled on about her younger brother and his new girlfriend. “And really, Beca, he’s fourteen. Like he’s basically a baby.”

 

“Didn’t you tell me you had your first boyfriend in eighth grade?”

 

“And aren’t you supposed to be on my side here?” Beca laughed, shaking her head as she sent Chloe a friend request. “Look at that, BMitchelLA wants to be my Venmo friend. Better send me something good in the subject line.”

 

With a groan, Beca turned to her emoji keyboard. “I now have another annoying form of communication you’re going to judge me by?” She paused, knowing that the symbol she needed would be the first one up on the recently used tab (because who the hell else would she ever be willing to send emojis to), but also that she needed to give Chloe at least the illusion of whining and complaining and struggling with basic human interaction. It was their dynamic, and it worked.

 

Chloe’s response was instantaneous when she got the message. “Aww, you’re a giant dork. I’m surprised you haven’t just replaced my name in your phone with the ladybug icon yet. But thanks, you’re a life-saver. There’s only so many times I can borrow from my dad to prevent overdraft fees until we start on the ‘seven years of college’ train.”

 

“Happy to help,” Beca replied, making a note in her phone to check her own balance to make sure that the inevitable identity theft had not occurred.

 

“Please tell me you’ve already left for the airport.”

 

Beca jumped up, yanking her charger out of the wall and hanging up on Chloe with a quick and desperate “bye!” before sprinting down the stairs to where the step-monster had left her car keys on the kitchen counter with a note reminding her to “drive safely and pack a coat.” She grabbed the keys, stumbling out the door with her bag in tow. As she sat in the driver’s seat, she felt her phone buzz in her pocket.

 

**Chloe:** Can’t wait to see you

 

She chalked the chill in her spine up to the cool Portland air before flooring the gas and heading to the airport.

* * *

 

Chloe had already finished packing, despite not flying out until the next morning. But after four years of living with Aubrey, she’d become nothing if not punctual, and herding the Bellas (mostly Amy and Beca) like wild cats for the next three had only increased these habits. So yeah, maybe it was a bit ironic to be early to everything when you’d taken seven years to graduate, but Chloe had had her reasons.

 

And it had been a productive day so far; she’d Skyped Aubrey, confirmed the set of rooms at the hotel, and continued the slow, painful process of pulling Beca Mitchell into the future. Hell, she would’ve considered it a good day just from talking to Beca alone.

 

The last couple of months away from her best friend had been a bit of a transition. Although Beca hadn’t started off as the most responsive friend, Chloe had become accustomed to extensive text and Snapchat conversations, but more particularly nightly intrusions into her room so Beca could complain about what in particular had annoyed her the most that day. It generally ranged from random passersby on campus to her dad (though they’d repaired their relationship to a large extent throughout Beca’s collegiate years) to Jesse.

 

It was the Jesse conversations that went on the longest, becoming increasingly frequent as the years went by. Beca would flop down on Chloe’s bed with a dramatic huff, spreading her arms and legs and taking up a surprising amount of space for a minute human being. Chloe would patiently turn from her desk, pull a bag of Cheetos out from a drawer and throw them at Beca’s head before attempting to control her laughter at the indignant yelp that followed (Chloe’s aim had always been solid).

 

The earliest complaints had been reasonable and expected from someone who had never been in a long-term relationship; growing pains like someone wanting to know where you were and what you were doing and actually wanting to hear from you all the time. Chloe herself had backed off with her texting after the first of these conversations, only to have Beca confront her a week later about whether she was mad at her for something. In Beca’s junior year, it had turned more to trivial annoyances like his stupid short-sleeved button down shirts or the fact that he always smelled like popcorn. The summer before Chloe’s final senior year had taken things to a more serious level.

 

Chloe and Beca were both living in the Bella house, along with Stacie, who was doing some sort of research with the Barden med school and a big-shot cancer surgeon from Johns Hopkins. Beca had come back from a particularly long shift at the radio station, entering the kitchen with her phone clutched to her ear and an expression of pure annoyance on her face. She waved halfheartedly at Chloe, disappearing up the stairs to her room for the next hour.

 

By the time she’d returned, Chloe had poured them both extremely full glasses of wine and opened a bag of Cheetos on the table. Beca slumped onto a stool in front of the counter, repeatedly thwacking her head lightly against the tile with a grunt. Chloe caught her head on the fifth try, tilting her face up. “Hey, we still need that pretty face for the Kennedy Center performance. Or at least the musical brain in it. I could always just move Stacie to the front.”

 

Beca sat up with a humph, taking a long gulp of the cheap wine before crossing her elbows on the counter edge and settling her head on her hands. “I hate men.”

 

“Men in general?” Chloe turned the opening of the bag to face her, Beca weakly quirking the corners of her mouth in response. “Or are we going to get specific?”

 

“Okay, maybe not like all parts of men,” Beca muttered over a mouthful of Cheetos. “Just their fragile-ass egos.” Chloe nodded slowly, sipping from her own glass as Beca collected her thoughts. “It’s just like—I’m sorry I didn’t go to New York with you this summer. I just wanted to save money. And we all know I couldn’t trust any of the interns alone at the station.”

 

“Luke trusted you.”

 

“Well, that’s me,” Beca said breezily. Chloe snorted, rolling her eyes as the brunette grinned at her desired response. “Okay but really. I wouldn’t have let freshman me take over the studio. I guess I just have higher standards or something?”

 

“You _can_ be a bit of a perfectionist sometimes.”

 

Beca finished her glass, crossing to the fridge to refill. “Uh huh, and who was it that kept us up until 3 AM before Nationals last year because she wasn’t convinced that the choreography was ‘aca-awesome?’”

 

“I didn’t use that term exactly.” Beca waved her free hand as she poured. “Okay, but that’s what makes us so good.”

 

“Not gonna disagree there.” She sighed, refilling Chloe’s offered glass. “But anyways, he thinks I’ve been avoiding him.”

 

“Well, have you been?” Chloe was shocked to hear the words leave her own mouth. It had been an unspoken rule between them for years that Chloe would never comment on just how often Beca would blow off Jesse for odd reasons, and it had allowed them to exist in a world where they never faced the fact that Beca spent substantially more time with her best friend than her boyfriend.

 

Beca stared at her over the rim of her glass, waiting as if she expected Chloe to add some sort of clarifying statement. When she didn’t, Beca slowly swallowed, pulling the glass back from her lips. “Maybe by _his_ definition.”

 

And this time Chloe didn’t lose control of her mouth, simply gave a sympathetic nod as Beca drummed her fingers on the edge of the counter. The only sound in the room for the next few minutes was intermittent sips and chewing as the two refused to make eye contact. Beca eventually broke the silence with a throaty cough.

 

“Didn’t you have some reality show you wanted to see or something?” She was watching Chloe hopefully, clearly uncomfortable with the uncharacteristic silence in the room. It was another change from the Beca of the past, but it certainly played to Chloe’s advantage as someone with an inability to keep her mouth shut.

 

“You’re willing to sit through the Bachelorette?” Chloe asked cautiously.

 

Beca dramatically rolled her eyes, grabbing the bag in one hand and the wine bottle in another. “Only because you brought Cheetos.”

 

She let Chloe lead the way to the couch in front of the TV, the redhead settling herself down against one arm as Beca curled up with her feet against the other, a few short inches between her shoulder and Chloe’s. “I’m really starting to question that badass reputation of yours.”

 

“I’m plenty badass,” Beca muttered. “Haven’t you heard about my ear monstrosities?”

 

“I swear, the more I get to know you, the less I believe it.” Chloe scrolled through the TV channels, one eye on the petulant face of the Cheeto-munching nerd beside her. “It’s like you’re an onion with increasingly squishy layers.”

 

“First of all, that is an incredibly unflattering metaphor.”

 

“It’s a simile, Becs.”

 

“Whatever. Gross.” Beca threw a Cheeto that missed Chloe by a good five feet. “Secondly, I’m pretty sure that’s not how onions work.”

 

“Which one of us grew up on a farm, Beca?” Chloe refilled her own glass and dodged another orange projectile.

 

Beca exhaled sharply through her nose before turning her eyes to the TV. “Just because you’re from Tennessee does not mean you grew up on a farm.”

 

One hour and two glasses of wine later, Beca had fallen into her customary position beneath Chloe’s shoulder, Chloe’s arm caught between Beca’s back and the back of the couch. The contestants were performing Shakespearean love sonnets as the Bachelorette herself admirably avoided laughing too hard when a muscle-bound blonde rhymed ‘time’ with ‘genuine.’

 

The brunette pressed against Chloe’s chest was not as kind. She let out that unrestrained laugh that Chloe had only ever heard while Beca was drunk, full and warm and never failing to make Chloe’s stomach jump. “She could do so much better,” Beca slurred, rolling her head back to meet Chloe’s stare. “What? She’s hot.”

 

“Steroid Sam there not your type?” Chloe said with a chuckle, pouring the last of the wine into her own glass before Beca could take the opportunity.

 

“Nah.” Beca let out a huff, breath raising the hair on the back of Chloe’s neck as Chloe’s hand went back to absentmindedly running through Beca’s hair as she faced the TV. When the show broke for commercial, promising the ‘most shocking twist in Bachelorette history,’ Chloe felt Beca’s body shift below her. And then Beca’s hand gripped her thigh. “Hey Chlo?”

 

She tried to answer at least three times, nothing but squeaks coming out of her mouth that she could barely hear over the pounding in her ears. On the fourth try, she got out a weak, “yeah?” as Beca’s thumb ran up and down the bare skin of her leg.

 

“You know what I said earlier, about Jesse?”

 

And the last thing that Chloe wanted to be talking about at this moment was Jesse, but she figured it was easiest to simply answer instead of saying anything out of place that would cause Beca to look up and see the flush she could feel spreading across her face. “Mmhmm?”

 

“I think I might be avoiding him.” It was soft and contemplative, and Chloe suddenly understood why Beca had been so abnormally quiet throughout the show rather than interjecting her customary commentary. “Even by my definition.”

 

The large gulp Chloe took of her wine did nothing to cool her face down, and it took all of her self-control to wait a moment and allow any remnant of sober Chloe to rise to the surface. The best she got was only slightly tipsy Chloe, but she’d have to take it. “Wha—“

 

“I’m not sure why I’m with him.” Beca’s interjection was barely audible, and Chloe muted the TV as she waited for her to continue. “I think I just don’t want to be alone.”

 

And Beca was saying the words that Chloe had thought hundreds of times but never dared to say, because Jesse had seemed to make her happy at some point and a happy Beca was all Chloe really wanted, even if Beca herself didn’t seem to be so clear on what would accomplish that. Chloe’s breath hitched slightly as she opened her mouth to answer. “Wouldn’t avoiding him leave you alone anyways? Even if you’re technically together?”

 

“I don’t know.” Beca tilted her head up, chewing her lip as her eyes searched Chloe’s face. “I guess it just doesn’t really feel different.”

 

Chloe sighed, brushing back a strand of Beca’s hair as it fell across those impossibly dark blue eyes, heavy and tired after more than enough wine, but endlessly roaming in a way that left Chloe almost unnervingly exposed. “What do you mean?”

 

“I don’t think he’s the one that stops me from feeling alone.”

 

Every atom of Chloe’s existence froze, erupted, and stilled again, jumbled and mismatched in a sloppy attempt to allow for some impersonation of human function. And Chloe, as Beca had earlier, gave her a soundless moment to retract what she’d said, to say something about the Bellas or her dad or anything. But Beca held her gaze, stars in those deep eyes that traveled to her lips and stopped.

 

The front door swung open with a bang. Beca sprung up from Chloe’s lap, turning to face the door as Stacie entered, exhausted and dragging her lab coat along the floor. “If I ever hear the word tumor again, I might kill someone.” She closed the door behind her, dropping to the ground with her back against it.

 

“Well, I wasn’t planning on saying it, if that helps.” Chloe shot a sidelong glance at Beca, who had pushed a solid two feet away from her on the couch. “Long day?”

 

“Ugh, you don’t even know.” Stacie peered around the couch at the TV. “I know they’re basically promising me a full ride to Johns Hopkins if I make it through this, but dear god does this ass have an ego on him. Also, why the hell do you have the Bachelorette muted?”

 

Chloe picked up the remote from between the couch cushions as Beca settled her back against the arm on the other side, toying with a piece of hair between her fingers. Stacie plopped down on the cushion separating the two of them, nudging Chloe’s knee aside while berating them for finishing the wine just as Chris Harrison sat down with the Bachelorette for yet another teary-eyed confessional. But Chloe wasn’t even listening, eyes wandering across the room to catch an adorably shy smile from the other side of the couch.

 

And while they avoided discussing the specific conversation for the rest of the summer, they didn’t avoid each other. It wasn’t really an option, and Chloe would come home from the camp where she worked more often than not and enter her room to find Beca sitting cross-legged on her bed, a bag of Twizzlers (Chloe’s personal favorite) on her pillow.

 

So it had sucked a bit to miss Beca for most of a year, only to find out that Jesse had known about the internship before she had; not that it was unreasonable for Beca to tell her boyfriend about something first, just different. But Beca had taken her aside after the campfire at the retreat, explained that it was just something that she hadn’t wanted to burden Chloe with, hadn’t wanted to set on her mind because she knew how she worried and finals and graduation and everything were coming up and Chloe just _had_ to graduate this year. And yeah, Chloe knew it was time regardless, but something about the way that Beca had held her gaze (not to mention her hand) and stressed the fact that neither of them could stay at Barden had stuck with her.

 

Chloe had graduated with 180 credits and dual degrees in vocal performance and elementary education, busting out of that Russian Lit class with a solid 92 on the final. Everything following that had been a bit of a whirlwind, and even after Worlds, Beca had mysteriously disappeared about halfway through the after-party, only reappearing the next morning to help Emily carry a still intoxicated Amy to the airport. And the last Chloe had seen of Beca was her ushering Amy into the bathroom, waving Chloe on with an apologetic half-smile as the Australian attempted not to go all Aubrey on the old woman in line in front of her.

 

She did still have to get the gift money from Amy, even if the enigmatic blonde wasn’t going to fly up from Australia to Maine for the weekend. Chloe picked up her phone to find notifications for two Snapchats and an email from UCLA Admissions. Deciding that the real world could wait until later, she pulled up Facebook messenger, shooting Amy a brief reminder with about 15 emojis at the end. Amy read the message immediately but seemed to have no plans to answer.

 

With a sigh, Chloe opened Snapchat. The first, from AubreyP, was her Southwest boarding position; A4, a personal Posen record, Chloe noted. She responded with a frowning selfie, ‘C30’ in bold print across her nose. And the familiar tightness in her stomach returned as the second opened with a close-up of Beca, ticket pressed against her face and ‘made it thanks 2 you’ above her head. She was biting her lip while her eyes were seemingly focused on the caption hanging above her, simple and candid and all too dorky. And of course there was the mini ladybug on her nose, a tradition they’d had for as long as Chloe could remember.

 

A Facebook notification dropped down over Beca’s face, and Chloe sent a picture of her suitcase with a note about ‘how to be on time w/o help’ to Beca before turning to Amy’s response.

 

**Patricia Fat Amy** : Don’t worry, the kangaroos haven’t taken all my money yet. Sent it to Stacie yesterday. Not that it’ll matter when all you pitches have to send money down under once we settle the bet

 

**Chloe Beale** : That wasn’t serious, right?

 

**Patricia Fat Amy** : Serious as silk burn and Bumper’s love of capers. No backing out Red

 

**Chloe Beale** : It seems mean

 

**Chloe Beale** : Plus how would we know? She’s in on the bet and she’s not going to want to lose

 

**Patricia Fat Amy** : We all figured that one was up to you, as one half of Bloe and all. If she and that sexually confused piece of man candy haven’t ended it yet, I’m going to have to rethink my career path as a psychic

 

**Chloe Beale** : Ugh. I still don’t like it

 

**Patricia Fat Amy** : Get your knickers untwisted and relax

 

**Patricia Fat Amy** : Bi-sides, big gay weddings might bring out the best in bi-tches

 

**Patricia Fat Amy:** If you know what I mean

 

**Chloe Beale** : You need help

 

**Patricia Fat Amy** : Have fun in Maine

 

**_Patricia Fat Amy is offline._ **

 

Chloe groaned, laying her phone down on her desk. Subterfuge had never been her strong suit, and Beca was a hell of a good liar. But half a grand was on the line, and maybe Chloe could find herself motivated by that, even without any other personal reasons she may have had, to figure out when and if Beca and Jesse had broken up. Yeah, Beca Mitchell was stubborn, but she really had nothing on Chloe Beale.


	2. Avalanche

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca, Chloe, and a load of sexual tension on a seven-hour drive to Maine. No discomfort here at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am writing this instead of applying to jobs. I hope you are all very happy about this. Let’s just wait until I finally get a job and then I can just be a complete, utter trashpile until it starts. Post-college life is so much fun, kiddos. Anyways. Here’s where we get a little roadtrippy, but with a lot more flashbacks and a lot less adorable musical moments and stops and stuff. Enjoy (?)

It wasn’t that Beca Mitchell was scared of flying. In fact, in the past, she had always appreciated the hours of silence and solitude that air travel afforded. And it probably also helped that she was small enough to fit comfortably inside the seats. No, what Beca was scared of was crashing, and the fact that it was pitch black out and she wouldn’t be able to see the impending fiery crash did not do much to assuage her fears as the plane tossed to and fro like a tin can.

 

She bent her body over her computer and headphones in her lap, figuring that if there was any chance of something surviving the brutal wreckage she was about to endure, it might as well be her laptop so Chloe could find the playlist she’d made for their drive to Maine because, really, no one should have to mourn their friend’s tragic death in silence for seven hours. Beca stayed with her forehead pressed to her knees until, after three jarring bumps that elicited squeaks she would deny until her grave, the plane stilled and lights fully illuminated the cabin.

 

Sitting up slowly, she made eye contact with the toddler to her right, thumb stuck in his mouth as he watched her with wide eyes. The kid’s mom glanced at her briefly with a judgmental raise of an eyebrow before Beca gave her a tight-lipped half-grin and pushed her mussed hair out of her eyes.

 

So yeah, an 8 PM flight from Portland to JFK that got in the next morning might have been the cheapest option, but Beca couldn’t help but regret all of her life’s choices as she finally looked at herself in the mirror of the bathroom off the plane. Red and puffy eyes, eyeliner edging on panda status, and the imprint of her headphone cord stark against her cheek; not precisely how she wanted to see Chloe for the first time after three months. With the help of a paper towel, she managed to lessen the raccoon eye syndrome and checked her watch to confirm that yeah, she had a good two hours for her skin to return to a much less textured state.

 

After sharing a mutually miserable glare with the exhausted kid who handed her coffee at Starbucks and losing a baggage-related shoving match to a pimply teen who was at least a foot taller than her, Beca folded herself into a corner at the baggage claim. She pulled her laptop out of her bag, plugged in the thankfully still-intact headphones, and opened Emily’s file for somewhere around the thousandth time that summer.

 

At this point, it was a labor of love more than anything else; Beca had already sent the demo out to a plethora of production companies with a few other, admittedly rougher, collaborations between her and Emily. Combined with a recommendation from her boss, mainly generated from a night looking up antonyms for how he felt about Dax, Beca had landed a job at a small label in LA as a production assistant.

 

Regardless, Beca still felt there was something missing, maybe another layering of harmony or beats or anything. And then of course there was always the nagging doubt in the back of her mind that told her she was just using the endless remixing as some sort of way to keep her mind from the fact that she’d be living in a city she’d never visited without anyone she knew after she’d spent the last four years getting used to always having someone there. Because really, it was better to listen to the same mix 1043 times than to start panicking. Beca Mitchell didn’t panic.

 

Emily’s voice filtered through her headphones, smooth and clear, and Beca couldn’t help but be a bit proud that she was leaving the Bellas with this giraffe-legged nerd. Yeah, she was a bit clumsy and had a vocal filter on par with that of Beca faced with the German Valkyrie, but the Bellas were in her blood and she’d fought harder than almost anyone for them over the last year. Besides, she and Beca already had plans for her to come out to LA over fall break to get a few more songs done, and Beca certainly wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to grill her on Bella proceedings…so she could tell Chloe and all. She leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes as the mix washed over her, drowning out the low whirr of the baggage carousel nearby.

* * *

“I’d forgotten that you drooled when you slept.” Beca was startled awake by a light kick in her shin, jolting up as her headphones fell back to rest around her neck. Bleary-eyed and blinking, she looked up to see Chloe Beale, hands on her hips and looking far too put together for 10 AM.

 

Beca wiped at the edge of her lip, confirming Chloe’s observation and just as surely increasing the already attractive picture she presented after flying all night. “Did you wake up at like 3 AM to do your hair or something?”

 

Chloe offered her hand, pulling the smaller woman to her feet with a dramatic huff. “Please. We all know I woke up like this.”

 

And she really tried to roll her eyes, tried to summon up any sort of sarcasm or snark or bitterness, but the grin tugging at Beca’s lips and the overwhelming desire to capture Chloe in a hug took over. She flung her arms around Chloe’s neck, the two automatically fitting into place like some expertly made mechanism as Chloe’s hands slid around to meet at the small of her back.

 

Beca could have stayed there for hours honestly, listening to the even pattern of breathing that she’d fallen asleep to many nights over the past few years. Her chin rested on Chloe’s shoulder, nestled up close to her cheek so she felt the wide smile breaking across the taller woman’s face.

 

She stepped back as she felt Chloe’s chest shudder. “Dude, are you crying?” Chloe’s eyes were glassy as she sniffled, that boundless grin unshaken.

 

“I missed you, okay?” She wiped her eyes delicately with a finger, looking Beca up and down. “Guess the late growth spurt still hasn’t happened.”

 

“I’m almost starting to give up hope,” Beca droned, noting Chloe’s suitcase by her feet. “Did you already get your bags?”

 

Chloe nodded. “My flight landed like forty-five minutes ago.”

 

“Were you just watching me sleep? I know you like Twilight, but that’s taking it a bit too far.”

 

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Chloe bent down and picked up a coffee sitting behind Beca’s own suitcase. “Double tall, skinny vanilla latte.” She punctuated the statement with an overly obnoxious sip as Beca finally managed that eye roll she’d been attempting.

 

“There are times when I just can’t handle you,” she muttered. As Beca packed up her laptop and headphones, Chloe walked over to the flight agent’s desk to ask for directions to the car rental location. And leave it to Chloe Beale to take a middle-aged, miserable-looking New Yorker who’d been shooting Beca the stink-eye for nearly the whole time she’d been conscious and turn him into a laughing, helpful tour guide who gave Chloe a jaunty wave as she returned.

 

Chloe led the way down three escalators, across a pedestrian bridge, and to the Hertz office, asking Beca an endless stream of questions about Portland, her new job, and her parents, every snide remark and quip that Beca responded with punctuated by that clear peal of laughter she’d lacked for the last few months. In the beginning of their friendship, Beca had found Chloe almost exhausting; she seemed to be endlessly and fluidly in motion, whether she was dancing on top of a Tiki bar at the Treble house or just reaching over Beca in the rehearsal space to write something on the whiteboard. And everything was so precise and directed, because although Chloe was the most open and welcoming human being on the planet, as far as Beca was concerned, there was that certain perfectionist streak deep in her that didn’t let a single moment or movement go to waste. Other than taking seven years to graduate.

 

At this point in their relationship, though, it was almost invigorating to be around her, and Beca couldn’t really even mourn the loss of the coffee she’d forgotten back in the terminal. She followed Chloe through the glass door to the offensively bright yellow front desk, taking the moment while Chloe talked to the desk attendant to return her father’s seven texts asking for status updates.

 

“Alright, we’re set.” Chloe dangled a set of keys in front of her eyes, a pair of water bottles with the company logo clutched in her other hand. “There’s a shuttle out to the lot and then we can get moving.”

 

“That was faster than I expected,” Beca said, taking the bottles from Chloe’s hand.

 

Chloe shrugged. “You just have to know the right things to say.”

 

They barely squeezed onto the shuttle as the first flights of the morning had mostly unloaded, filling up the bus with shifty-eyed businessmen and tourists, cameras bouncing against their chests with every jarring shift of the vehicle. Chloe made conversation with a pair of Wall Street bros sitting in front of them, somehow managing to lead the way in a discussion of international finance rates that she knew absolutely nothing about with that ease that Beca had always envied. When they stepped off of the flimsy deathtrap into the vast parking lot, the taller of the two gave Chloe a particularly confident smirk while he asked for her number.

 

Beca’s eyes shot up as she felt Chloe’s fingers intertwine with her own. “Sorry, we’re actually on our way to a wedding.” The guy’s eyes made their way over to Beca for the first time, peering back and forth between the two before he settled back with a grin.

 

“Nice,” he said, voice low and full of meaning that Beca did not really have the energy or desire to interpret. “Well, you girls have fun.” As he turned around, the other man gave Beca an apologetic half-grin before jogging after his friend.

 

Beca looked wordlessly up at Chloe, who was on her toes squinting around the parking lot. Their hands were still clasped, and Beca could feel hers getting clammy as Chloe let out a sigh, pulling out a slip of paper from her pocket. “It should be in D…ah, got it!” She shifted the duffel bag on her shoulder and began to pull Beca behind her.

 

“Uh, Chlo?” Chloe stopped, turning around with the rare furrow between her brows. “Can I get my hand back?”

 

Chloe looked down at their clasped hands, biting her bottom lip in confusion as if she’d forgotten. “Oh, yeah,” she said, slowly releasing Beca’s fingers. “Sorry.”

 

“It’s fine.” Beca wiped her hand on the leg of her jeans, swallowing deeply as Chloe once again led the way through the rows of cars.

 

They came to a sudden stop behind a silver pick-up truck with an Indiana license plate. Beca blinked a few times to make sure that she wasn’t blinded by the sun bouncing off the chrome before turning to Chloe in disbelief. “A truck?”

 

“Yeah!” Chloe unlocked the back of the truckbed, throwing in her own duffel before lifting what Beca had thought was her particularly heavy suitcase with ease and sliding it in behind. “I’m assuming you want your backpack up front with you?”

 

Beca nodded, walking around to the passenger’s side. “You went with a truck?”

 

“It’s what I’ve been driving at home for the past couple of months,” Chloe replied. “I got used to it. Besides, I’d say that making all of the reservations gives me the right to pick what car I want without being judged.”

 

“Don’t you live like only twenty minutes outside of Nashville?”

 

“Everyone in Tennessee has trucks, Becs.” Chloe, who had already settled herself into her seat, let out a chuckle as Beca missed the step up to the cab. “Need some help there?” At Beca’s responding glare, she held her hands up innocently and busied herself with checking the gauges and fuel level as the engine roared to life.

 

Beca shoved her backpack under the glove compartment with a grunt before easing herself up with the help of the door’s outcropping beverage holder. “So is everyone in Tennessee just like ten feet tall?”

 

Chloe regarded her for a moment before winking. “I swear you forget exactly how tiny you are sometimes.”

 

“OK, Beale, you’re all of two inches taller than I am.”

 

“And those two inches make a world of difference.” Beca stuck out her tongue as she pulled the aux cord out of her bag. “So did you put something together or are we going to have to rely on New England’s best public radio for a good seven hours?”

 

“It’s like you don’t even know me,” Beca said. She handed her phone over to Chloe, who squinted at the playlist for a moment before looking back up, left eyebrow quirked.

 

“Everybody Loves a Good Bloe?’”

 

Beca’s laugh couldn’t be described as anything other than a cackle as she took the phone back, hit play, and settled her sunglasses down over her eyes. “So how long is this drive supposed to take?”

 

Chloe eased the truck out of the parking lot, glancing at the map on her phone in the console. “It says a bit over seven hours.”

 

“Even with New York traffic?”

 

Face scrunching, Chloe surveyed the highway below the bridge on which they were currently driving. “Okay, maybe nine hours.” 

* * *

Beca had fallen asleep soon after they’d gotten out of the city. Yeah, Nashville traffic could be nuts at times, but Chloe had never experienced the true hell that was entering the highway off of JFK on a weekday before. She’d been cursing steadily under her breath after they’d moved about twenty feet in half an hour, Beca unable to contain her amusement as she sat cross-legged in the massive seat, drumming her fingers absentmindedly on the edge of the window.

 

As Chloe had pulled onto the Saw Mill Parkway, following Aubrey’s recommendation from when her family used to drive up to Cape Cod for the summer, the drumming had wholly ceased, and Beca’s head had fallen to rest on her left shoulder. Her mouth was slightly parted and upturned at the corners; in contrast to her conscious scowl, Beca always seemed to sleep with a peaceful, content expression on her face. Her sunglasses had slipped down onto the bridge of her nose, and long eyelashes caught the sun’s mid-day rays every time they passed beneath an overpass or through a tunnel.

 

The mix had clearly been designed with Chloe in mind, because Beca Mitchell would not be caught dead listening to one Carly Rae Jepsen song, let alone the two that had already played. And of course everything blended together perfectly with that touch that only Beca could add, custom-made mashups bridging any gaps between songs along with the occasional surprise reference to old Bella sets.

 

And while it was certainly an energetic, clean set of songs that anyone who had spent the last seven years dedicating all of their life to girl power lady jams could appreciate, driving in silence was making Chloe bored. On top of this, she was getting hungry, and no one did hangry like she did. Soon after crossing the border into Connecticut, she pulled into a travel plaza and killed the engine.

 

Beca did not budge. The girl had been a heavy sleeper for as long as Chloe had known her, and she’d only gotten more akin to a log as they’d spent years sleeping on tour buses and in crowded hotel rooms, often dealing with the din of Lilly’s beatbox practicing or Amy’s truly horrifying attempts at quiet phone sex with Bumper. So although sleeping Beca was truly adorable, food won out.

 

Chloe carefully reached across the cab of the truck, pinching Beca’s nose shut and waiting for the indignant squeak that followed, accompanied by a flurry of slaps with all the strength that Beca could muster. “Why the hell do you always wake me up like that?” The brunette rubbed her nose protectively, squinting through sleep-addled eyes.

 

“Because when I wake you up any other way, you fall asleep again ten seconds later.” Chloe jumped out of the truck, rounding the front in time to help climb out. “Besides, it’s lunch time.”

 

Beca trudged behind Chloe, eyes glued to her phone screen as they entered the gas station mart. After a brief squabble when Chloe attempted to intervene with a salad as Beca was determined to purchase only sour gummy worms and Cheetos as her lunch, they sat at a bench in the shade by the truck.

 

Grimacing as she chewed a mouthful of the carrots that Chloe had forced her to buy, Beca leaned back against the wood. Her arm came to rest behind them, fingers tangling in a carefully curled strand of Chloe’s hair. “It’s longer than it was at Worlds,” she mused, eyes on the small park across the lot where a husky puppy bounded across the grass, dragging the kid holding his leash behind him.

 

“Time tends to do that. To hair and all.” Chloe took a deep gulp of her water, turning to face Beca as her phone let out a particularly noisy vibration. Beca’s phone had been going off for the whole time they’d been stopped, and the younger girl seemed to have given up on answering the texts after about the tenth consecutive buzz. So, yeah, maybe Chloe had the bet a bit on her mind as she pointedly stared at the phone by Beca’s leg. “Someone you need to answer?”

 

Beca scowled, popping another carrot into her mouth. “Not particularly.” Her hand dropped from Chloe’s hair, shooting sparks up her spine as Beca’s fingers ghosted over the thin fabric of her tank top. “Do you have any idea how much longer we have to go?”

 

Chloe pulled out her own phone, ignoring two texts from Aubrey and Stacie, as well as a series of Facebook messages from Amy as she pulled up the map app. “It says like five-ish hours. So we’ll be on time.” Beca stood up and stretched her arms with a yawn.

 

“Cool. Do you want these carrots or have I not been healthy enough for you yet, Mom?”

 

“I’m sorry that I don’t want you to die,” Chloe said, taking the offered bag from Beca. “Not like I can keep an eye on what you feed yourself much anymore.”

 

Beca’s jaw tightened as she slowly pulled her hand back. “Yeah,” she murmured. “Not sure what I’m gonna do without you in LA.”

 

Her eyes lingered somewhere around Chloe’s nose, abnormally clear without the fifty pounds of protective eyeliner that she was oft to wear. These moments always left Chloe feeling almost naked as Beca wordlessly bored into her with her gaze. And Chloe could never be sure whether she was saying or asking something in the silence, but the stillness would pass before she could react. Beca’s phone was responsible for the cessation of her scrutiny this time, and Chloe looked over to where Beca had left it on the bench next to her, only to have Beca dart over to pick it up before she could see the screen.

 

“Should we get going?”

 

Swinging the keys around her finger, Chloe nodded. “I would ask if you wanted to drive for a bit, but I’m not sure that you could see over the wheel.”

 

“Fight me, Beale.” 

* * *

In later years, Chloe would argue to Amy that it really should’ve been her responsibility to settle the bet. She _had_ been the one who had started it, three cups of punch and four tequila shots in at the Bella after-party following Regionals her third senior year. After two hours of dancing at the Treble house, shots after shots to celebrate Barden’s continued dominance of the event for the past three years, Amy, Stacie, and admittedly Chloe, had refused to let the party die.

 

While Stacie and Amy had rounded up the rest, Chloe had found her way to the lounge chairs on the far side of the pool where Jesse and Beca lay next to each other, Jesse’s arm around Beca’s shoulder even as they remained silent. “Becs!” Chloe was drunk, and she knew it, but the goofy grin she received from her best friend suggested that she was in the same state. “We’re going back because this party is dead.” A quick glance at Jesse. “Sorry, Jess.”

 

Beca sat up, shaking off Jesse’s hand as he stared blankly at Chloe. “Yeah, sure,” he sighed, grimacing as Beca draped her arm around Chloe’s waist, pressing her nose into the taller girl’s shoulder with a giggle. “Take care of her, okay?”

 

“Always do, Jess.” So maybe the wink was a little much, but it was out before she could stop it, and she slung her arm around Beca before guiding her over to the waiting group.

 

They hung back slightly, mainly because Beca hadn’t bothered to change out of her high-heeled boots from the performance and couldn’t seem to understand how to walk when she and Chloe were around the same height. After she’d jogged ahead and almost tripped over the edge of the sidewalk for the fifth time, she allowed Chloe to walk directly behind her, hands clasped onto her shoulders for balance.

 

“He’s not happy.” The singsong voice floated back, prompting a snort from Chloe as she leaned forward to place her face cheek-to-cheek with Beca’s.

 

“You did kind of just leave there, Becs,” Chloe whispered, Beca’s hair tickling the edge of her nose.

 

“All I did was shake his hand off.” Beca turned to face Chloe, gripping her underarms right below her elbows. “I had places to go.” She leaned in, the smell of vodka mixing with that strange hint of pine needles and rain that always hung around Beca, something that Chloe decided was a Portland thing a long time before. “Besides, I left him his hand.”

 

“Beca!” Chloe pushed her back lightly, the brunette doubling over with that rich, unfettered laugh. “You are drunk.” With a weak approximation of a nonchalant shrug, Beca turned and sprinted off towards the other Bellas.

 

After a ten-minute squabble over seating position, the girls had settled around the table in the living room, cups filled with anything ranging from water to straight whiskey for Cynthia Rose. Chloe was nursing a cup of Jiggle Juice, pressed into a chair that would have been uncomfortably squished for two people if its other occupant wasn’t halfway on her lap and the size of a ten-year-old. Despite Chloe’s protests, Amy had given Beca a weak, at least by Amy’s standards, vodka tonic, and the tiny brunette was currently facing Chloe with the drink’s lime garnish sticking out of her mouth.

 

Chloe pulled the fruit out of her mouth delicately, fingers darting back just in time as Beca attempted to nip at her fingers. “I’m pretty sure the lime in the mouth thing is only for body shots,” she said, glaring at a winking Stacie across the room. It was Stacie’s fault that she was in this predicament anyways; the leggy brunette had draped herself over as much of the couch as physically possible, forcing the rest to fill up the remaining seats as Chloe wrangled a wild Beca.

 

“Well, maybe that can come later.” The following wink was probably a bit more adorable than Beca had intended it to be, and Chloe pushed her back into the corner of the chair as Amy took her seat on the floor by the table.

 

“All right, pitches,” Amy shouted. “We’re on our way to our third nationals title!” A whoop sounded from around the room. “And while I may carry this team through the performances themselves, we couldn’t have gotten there without the endless, obnoxious leadership of our currently wasted co-captains!” Chloe raised her glass with a grin as another cheer echoed. “Most importantly, despite the tiny one’s split allegiances, we stuck it to those Trebles to remain top ladies on campus!”

 

Beca snorted into Chloe’s shoulder, her fingers slipping into the redhead’s hand that was hidden from the rest of the room due to the positioning of Beca’s leg. Chloe took a deep breath, not even daring to look over as she felt Beca’s eyes against the side of her head.

 

“Please, as if it was ever a question of which team Beca would play for.” Chloe almost choked on her drink at the sound of Stacie’s voice, heavy with meaning that nobody seemed to miss besides the giggling dork against Chloe’s side.

 

“He does always look so heartbroken after they lose,” Amy added. “Kind of like a kicked puppy. But much hotter.”

 

“That’s just some weird shit, Amy.” Cynthia Rose’s eyes flicked from Amy to Beca as the Bella co-captain pushed herself up.

 

“Sore losers,” Beca said. “All of them. Dragging down my vibe.” She bent over and poked Chloe’s nose with a quiet ‘boop’ before releasing her hand and shifting her body so her legs hung over Chloe and off the chair arm.

 

Chloe’s breath resumed its best imitation of a normal pattern, her hand slightly tingling as she rested it across Beca’s lap. “Think he’s gonna be too bad in New York all summer after we win nationals?”

 

Beca looked up at her, a frown furrowing the skin between her eyebrows. “I’m not going to New York,” she muttered. “Staying here.”

 

“When’d you decide that?” Chloe felt the heat of the others’ eyes upon them.

 

“Monday.” Beca’s hand landed on her own, squeezing it lightly. “Sorry I didn’t tell you.”

 

The implications hung heavily in the air; Chloe had worked at the same summer camp near Barden for the last five years, and had already announced her plans to do as such after she’d revealed that she’d been continuing on at Barden for another year. After she’d revealed that the previous Friday. She met Stacie’s eyes, the brunette’s expression a strange mix of intrigue, support, and ‘you’re fucked, dude.’

 

As usual, Amy took the lead on breaking the silence. “Movie man isn’t going to be too happy about that,” she said, tossing back one of the shots in front of her without any hint of the sharp taste in her face. “He’s already exceeded my expectations for lasting this long.”

 

“Same.” It was echoed by four voices that Chloe was unable to identify as every other member of the team took a synchronized sip of their drinks, unwilling to meet her eyes. Beca didn’t seem particularly fazed, though, simply raising her eyebrows as she drummed her fingers in a continuous rhythmic pattern on Chloe’s hand.

 

“Hey Amy,” Cynthia Rose said. “Don’t you owe me money from freshman year with that bet on who Beca was going to get together with?”

 

“I…I don’t remember anything like that.”

 

“Mmhmm.”

 

“You know what?” The Australian pushed herself on to her knees to face Cynthia Rose. “I’ll give you double or nothing on something new.”

 

“Isn’t that a little insensitive, gambling and all?” Ashley chimed in.

 

Cynthia Rose hushed her with a finger, locking onto Amy’s eyes. “What you got, Patricia?”

 

“Timing on when Beca and the sexually confused popcorn lover call it quits.” There was a deep intake of breath as all eyes in the room turned to Beca, who looked back up at them with a goofy grin before turning Chloe’s wrist over to tap out what felt vaguely like Titanium on her palm.

 

“Stakes?”

 

Amy thought for a moment. “Fifty bucks, cash.”

 

“Pssh, I thought you were some sort of badass crocodile wrangler or something.” Cynthia Rose leaned forwards. “I’m in with at least a hundred.”

 

“If Beca doesn’t care, count me in.” Stacie’s eyes hadn’t left Chloe the whole time, and stayed on her as the rest of the Bellas concurred. Ashley came in soonest at Thanksgiving Break next year, with Amy landing on the week after Cynthia Rose’s wedding. When everyone had spoken, Cynthia Rose turned to Chloe.

 

“You in, Red?”

 

She trapped Beca’s fingers in her palm, searching those navy blue eyes for a sign of anything other than the passivity they’d held throughout most of the conversation. When Beca simply winked at her, she looked back up. “Six months after graduation.” It was reasonable, and, most importantly, it was the latest, as any supportive best friend would make their bet.

 

Beca snorted, pushing herself up by the elbows. “Hell, with that much money, I’m in. At least one year after graduation.” Amy took the final note on her phone before sending a screenshot to their GroupMe. Catching Chloe’s look of concern, Beca grinned. “Dude, it’s a bet I control. I’d be stupid not to get in on it.”  

 

It was so nonchalant that it only served to increase the tightness in Chloe’s gut, as if Beca could not care less that her romantic future was essentially tied around a thousand bucks. Just as Chloe began to analyze whether this meant that a) Beca was so sure in her relationship with Jesse that she figured she’d be making an easy payday out of it, or b) that the relationship already felt sterile enough that treating it like a business transaction wouldn’t change too much, Stacie cleared her throat.

 

“So I guess we’ll have a fun little party here at the Bella house this summer.” When all eyes were on her, she dramatically raised her hands. “I got the research fellowship at Barden for the summer!”

 

The room filled with shouts of congratulations, Stacie shooting Chloe a surreptitious nod as Lilly patted her lightly on the back. “Barden Bella bitches holding down the fort,” Amy said. “Try not to _ménage_ too many _trois_ without us.” The night devolved into a series of drinking games that Chloe watched from the chair, trapped underneath Beca, who was doing her best to hide the fact that she was nodding off every fifteen minutes.

 

Chloe woke up the next morning in the same position, Beca having turned in the night so she was face-first against Chloe’s abdomen. And no matter how much she wanted to just sit there and ponder for a few moments how exactly she was going to survive the summer when she’d come pretty damn close to exploding, dying, or some other combination of emotions she wasn’t completely ready to face due to last night alone, she really needed to pee.

 

With a grunt, she raised Beca up, slowly placing her back down in the chair before sprinting out to the nearest bathroom, only to find Amy asleep in the tub. With a sigh, she jogged upstairs, taking an extra minute to smooth back her hair and wipe the eyeliner streaks from her face before returning to the living room.

 

Beca was sitting up when Chloe rounded the corner, that particular hungover squint across her face. “Hey.” It was weak and low, punctuated by a sigh when Chloe presented her with a glass of water. “Who the hell let me have that last drink last night?”

 

Leaning up against the counter, Chloe did her best judgmental soccer mom impression. “I really tried to stop you,” she said. “But, and I quote, ‘I am a grown-ass adult, Chloe. I walked here in these boots. Do you see how tall these boots are? They make me an adult, and adults like vodka.’”

 

“Fuck past me.” She finished the glass, setting it on the table as Jessica and Ashley popped up from behind the couch. “Well, at least she secured me a nice payday.”

 

Chloe stared as blankly as she could manage at Beca. “You actually want to do the bet?”

 

Beca nodded. “LA’s expensive.”

 

And that was all. No one bothered to ask Jessica and Ashley precisely why they’d woken up tangled around each other, and those who could manage to stay upright for more than ten minutes headed off to brunch.

 

So really, it should’ve been Amy’s responsibility to solve the bet, not Chloe’s job to attempt to steal any surreptitious glances that she could at Beca’s phone. Not that Chloe had any stake in the matter at all.

* * *

 

They were driving through New Hampshire when Beca finally hazarded a glance at her phone. Two Snapchats from Legacy, three texts from her dad, an email from her future boss, and…shit.

 

**Jesse:** I just wanted to let you know that I’m coming this weekend. Let me know if you want to talk

 

Well. That was new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to make this driving playlist. I think I’m going to make this playlist. Whatever. Sorry if it’s been a bit of a slow start, but these two have a fun four days ahead of them. More Bella madness and awkwardness to come soon. As always, I’m over on Tumblr as bicamitchell if you want to cry/talk/throw headcanons at me. Peace out, pitches.


	3. Skinny Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe’s a bit of a speed demon, but it gets the job done. Beca and Chloe arrive at the hotel, and Beca has to actually deal with reality for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, this is precisely why I didn’t set a chapter limit to begin with. These morons had the nerve to stretch their damn road trip out into two chapters. It’s like they have no respect for my time and life. Anyways, we have more of the Bellas in this chapter instead of these two just gawking at each other like dumb birds and jumping fifty feet when they touch each other or hearing the other one breathe and being like ‘damn that’s some good shit.’ These author’s notes are just turning into the Tumblr tag conversations I have with myself. I need to stop. Enjoy.
> 
> P.S. I have literally no control on setting myself to a reasonable posting schedule.

They crossed the border into Maine at four in the afternoon, thanks to Chloe driving at nearly 85 MPH on all of the highways because “that’s how we do it in the South, Beca.” And Beca would’ve complained further, something about speeding traps or tickets that neither of them could really afford to pay, but she knew that, realistically, Chloe probably could shoot any cop who pulled them over a grin and a wink and simply be wished on her way with a detailed list of all the traffic cop locations for the next hundred miles. Besides, she wasn’t going to complain about getting there any sooner; she’d run out of gummy worms halfway through New Hampshire and was not going to stoop to the level of asking Chloe for any carrots.

 

“So what’s the plan?” Chloe responded with an inquisitive hum. “Like are we meeting up with CR or anyone tonight or just going to the hotel and passing out?”

 

“The hotel’s just like five minutes from the farmhouse. Stace got in yesterday, so I think she’s meeting us at the hotel and riding over with us.”

 

Beca nodded. Honestly, she was still a bit terrified by the concept of Stacie Conrad, Best Woman, as she’d been deemed, but Chloe had assured her repeatedly that she’d seen the plans, discussed them extensively with Stacie, Aubrey, and Cynthia Rose, and that all would go off without a hitch. But even Chloe didn’t know the details of the bachelorette party, and there was no way in hell that Stacie would skimp on that.

 

“Have you met her fiancée or anything?”

 

“Only over Skype,” Chloe said. “She actually grew up only like an hour away from me. But Hayley’s the tits. Stacie met her a couple summers ago, and helped organize Cynthia Rose’s proposal and all.”

 

“I’m still kind of offended that you didn’t let me in on your little circle of wedding planning masterminds,” Beca grumbled. “It’s like you’re an evil cabal or something. I don’t even know what the hell I’ll be wearing.”

 

“Well, I figured I’d already gotten you to join one cult. Didn’t want to push my luck and break that perfect record.” She slammed on the breaks as they passed a Maine state trooper vehicle, sending Beca careening forwards towards the glove compartment. The car turned out to be empty, only there as a deterrent, and Chloe resumed her breakneck pace a moment later, facing Beca with an apologetic grin. “Sorry.”

 

Folding herself back up into the seat, Beca let out a dramatic sigh. “Surprisingly still intact.” The landscape whizzing by was all verdant and gold, lit from behind by the end of the late afternoon sun and the slowly growing warmth of the sunset.

 

Chloe seemed to notice her pensive appreciation of their surroundings, staring out over Beca’s head at a particularly scenic overpass before returning their eyes to the road before them. “A bit different from Portland?”

 

“Mmhmm.” Portland was green enough, thanks to the almost never-ending rain season, but the accents were more grey and brown and endlessly dark. Besides, Beca could never really be bothered to go hiking or really wander off into the wilderness; she lived her life in a constant state of wifi connectivity. “Have you ever been this far east before?”

 

“Not this far exactly,” Chloe replied. “My dad’s family had a house in Martha’s Vineyard. We used to go there like every summer. I actually got that scar on my forehead falling off a rock jetty when I was five.”

 

Beca’s eyes travelled to the mark in question, which she’d always found absurdly adorable but never bothered to ask Chloe about. She knew Chloe was a bit self-conscious about it, claiming that half the reason she never frowned was due to the fact that it got all scrunched-up and ‘weird’ when she did. Beca saw it differently; it was a confirmation that Chloe Beale was, in fact, human, and not some Greek goddess that had popped up in Tennessee, decided she liked country music, and stuck around. On top of this, it was inherently a part of that unique combination of positivity, energy, and deep-seeded neuroticism that was just Chloe. That could never be a bad thing.

 

And Beca realized she’d been staring at Chloe’s face for a solid minute. Chloe’s eyes could never stay on the road for particularly long (yet another reason Beca had kept a solid grip on the edge of her seat for most of the time she’d been conscious), and her eyes flicked sidewise to meet Beca’s, bright and somehow more golden than the sunset falling around them. Yeah, Chloe’s eyes were blue, but they were always filled with some sort of light that Beca swore could not be natural.

 

“You zoning out on me, Becs?” Beca snapped her head to face forwards, because at least one of them needed to be watching the road at all times. “We could stop for coffee or something if you want.”

 

“Probably not a bad plan,” Beca said, pulling up her phone to search for coffee places nearby. “I’m not sure I’m gonna be able to handle Stacie without it. Speaking of the other members of your secret club, when’s Aubrey getting in?”

 

“She actually decided to come a bit early too. Got in last night.” Chloe pulled off at the next exit, a Dunkin Donuts sign evident over the tree line even from the highway.

 

Beca snorted. “Really? I’m surprised she was willing to leave her Fortune 500 CEOs in less capable hands. Someone might actually break out the ladders in her absence.”

 

Chloe tried to cover her laugh with a cough as they pulled into the drive-through. “Be nice. I don’t want to spend this whole week keeping you two from killing each other.” After Beca ordered a simple black coffee and Chloe went for some ice-cream flavored concoction that made Beca’s stomach churn just thinking about it, Chloe slapped her hand away as she tried to pass her credit card to the attendant.

 

“Did you get some high-paying job that you haven’t told me about next year or something?” Chloe stuck out her tongue in response as she passed the drinks to Beca, leaving the kid at the drive-through with a brilliant smile.

 

“Not yet,” she said, lips slowly forming a smirk. “But I think I’ll be set if I go with the exotic dancing option.”

 

Beca rolled her eyes, punching Chloe in the shoulder. “As long as what you end up doing doesn’t involve Russian literature.”

 

“Hey, I’ll have you know that I can pretty much quote Anna Karenina.”

 

“Which will really come in handy if you ever have to give a private dance to a Russian mob boss.”

 

After swerving to barely avoid crushing a Prius that attempted a power play as they merged onto the highway, Chloe still managed to give Beca that unflappable smile as the younger girl faced visions of her childhood flashing in front of her eyes. “Look at you thinking ahead. I knew I kept you around for something other than that face of yours.”

 

“If you keep driving like this, neither of us are going to be around much longer,” Beca muttered. “I never thought I’d miss Amy’s driving.”

 

Chloe simply laughed, shooting Beca a wink before turning back to the road. 

* * *

They lost cell phone service for a good fifty miles, pushing Beca into a panic that made it such that Chloe couldn’t help but be reminded of the bear trap situation at the retreat. Beca, for her part, alternated between making snide comments about Chloe’s driving and waving her phone hopelessly in the air. When she finally gave up and placed her phone back down in the console, Chloe took advantage of Beca’s mopey, distant stare out the window to interrupt the playlist with Uptown Funk.

 

Beca groaned, grabbing for her phone as Chloe held it just out of her admittedly limited reach. “Why are you doing this to me?” She settled on slapping at Chloe’s arm half-heartedly for a minute before leaning back in her seat with a pout. “You already made me listen to this song for pretty much a month on repeat last year.”

 

“And it always made you smile.” Despite Beca’s best ‘I’m a badass alternative DJ’ posturing, Chloe had learned over time that a small group of mindless pop songs could snap Beca out of even her worst mood. Beca would never admit it, but Taylor Swift pretty much was always guaranteed to get the job done.

 

“I had an order,” Beca said, still making no move to change the song when Chloe set the phone back down.

 

“I’m sure we have time for you to wow me with your aural prowess later.”

 

The blush that spread across Beca’s face couldn’t be hidden even as she turned back to the window, her ears still a burning red. They’d been driving on back road highways for a while at this point, and Chloe checked her own phone to confirm that they were about ten minutes out from the hotel. It seemed like the sort of area where cows outnumbered people, and a distinctly farmy scent wafted through the windows that Chloe had insisted they keep open, despite Beca’s whining about gas mileage.

 

“Can you text Stacie and tell her we’re ten minutes out?” Beca nodded, taking a moment to turn the music back to her playlist with a satisfied smirk.

 

“Anything to keep your eyes on the road,” she added, phone immediately erupting with six consecutive texts. “Stacie’s excited. And hey, guess we’re back in some sort of cell service civilization.”

 

Chloe turned up the driveway past the sign for the hotel, which turned out to be surprisingly modern and cookie-cutter in contrast to the classic New England landscape around them. She located Stacie’s car by the Bellas sticker on the back, pulling into the spot next to it as Beca yawned and stretched before groaning as a texts and emails flooded in with the newly returned cell phone service.

 

“I swear to god, my father’s just going to stick a GPS chip on me in my sleep at some point.” They jumped out of the truck, Beca almost crashing into the side of Stacie’s car as she landed unsteadily.

 

“Not gonna lie, but Aubrey suggested something similar when you first joined.” Chloe rounded the truck to find a scowling Beca on the other side. “What? You weren’t always the Bella-loving dork that I’ve come to know and love.”

 

Before Beca could respond, she was enveloped in a hug from behind by Stacie, who had barreled out of the hotel so quickly that Chloe had completely missed her. “You’re here!”

 

Chloe looked over to Stacie’s point of origin just in time to see Aubrey switching from a perfectly poised walk into a sandal-addled jog as she caught sight of Chloe. The blonde wrapped her arms around Chloe in a crushing embrace, letting go only when Stacie shoved her in the arm.

 

“You’re hogging the hottie, Aubs,” Stacie said, winking apologetically in Beca’s direction as Aubrey stepped back.

 

“Aubs?” Beca’s eyes flicked back and forth between the two before Aubrey took her in an awkward one-armed hug. Chloe gave Stacie a questioning stare as Aubrey’s back was turned, but the leggy brunette simply shrugged her off before grabbing her by the arm and rivaling Aubrey with her enthusiasm.

 

They moved the bags into the hotel, Stacie squealing when she found out they were all on the same floor. Although Beca looked like she was going to bite Aubrey’s arm off when she tried to carry her backpack from the lobby, the two eventually managed to hold a conversation without any interference from Chloe and only one snarky remark regarding bear traps from Beca.

 

Chloe honestly couldn’t remember the layout of the room that they’d be sharing; the block of rooms she’d reserved had been a mix of single queen-size beds and separate twins. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was hoping for as Beca slid the keycard into the reader, swinging the door open to reveal a well-lit, almost painfully beige room with a pair of beds separated by a small table. Beca shrugged, placing her backpack and suitcase against the window before falling onto the far bed with a bounce.

 

Stacie’s strange mind reading talent didn’t seem to have diminished since graduation, as she fixed Chloe with a meaningful glance after following her into the room. Chloe chose to ignore this, following Aubrey’s lead and sitting on the empty bed as Beca set about plugging in her phone charger while Stacie leaned up against the wall between the bathroom and the sleeping area.

 

“So who are you two rooming with?” Chloe asked, having left the specifics of the sleeping arrangements to Aubrey, other than making sure that she and Beca were in the same room. They’d gotten on similar sleeping schedules over the past years, largely due to crashing in each other’s rooms enough times for one reason or another, and Chloe could easily list off at least three strange sleeping habits of the remaining members of the group that did not make for ideal roommates.

 

“Um.” Aubrey let out the closest thing to a stammer that Chloe had ever heard from her, looking up at Stacie in what almost seemed like desperation.

 

Stacie rolled her eyes. “Aubrey seems to have left her ability to communicate at the Lodge,” she said. “Jessica and Ashley were an obvious combo, and Emily seems to be the only one that can understand Lilly more than a third of the time. That really only left us, with Flo and Amy not making it and all. Unless you expected us to stay with the Trebles.”

 

“So, you two are staying together?” Chloe spoke slowly, watching as Aubrey and Beca seemed to be engaging in a competition about who could pull off the most uncomfortable shifting of the day.

 

With a confirming nod, Stacie pulled her phone out of the pocket of her jeans. “Okay, so CR and Hayley are getting dinner with their parents, but wanted to know if we were down to meet up after?”

 

“Of course!” Chloe checked the time on the alarm clock on the bedside table. “What time were they thinking?”

 

“Mostly gonna play it by ear, but I think 9ish if that works?”

 

“Beca?”

 

The brunette looked up from her phone, regarding the rest with a scowl before shrugging. “Yeah, sure.”

 

Stacie scoffed, turning back to Chloe with her eyebrows raised. “Cool. So we actually already ate because Aubrey keeps the schedule of a ninety-year-old—“

 

“—I resent that.” Aubrey sat up from the headboard, arms crossed. “I’ve simply become accustomed to a schedule based on waking up early and being active throughout the day.”

 

She and Stacie held each other’s gaze for just a moment too long before Stacie faced Chloe. “Anyways. Are you two gonna be all right feeding yourselves?”

 

Chloe looked over at Beca. “Theoretically. As long as they have gummy worms.”

 

“I’m not even going to ask.” Aubrey stood up as Stacie straightened up from the wall. “Want to plan to meet up at like 8:45?”

 

“Works for me,” Chloe replied. “You two don’t get up to too much trouble.” A rare furrow formed through Stacie’s brow before she waited for Aubrey to give Chloe another hug and led the way out of the room.

 

Once they were alone, Chloe swung her feet over the side of the bed. “What the hell is up with those two?”

 

Beca sighed, closing her eyes as she spread her arms and legs across the bed. “I’m not even going to try to guess. Too tired.”

 

“More tired than hungry?” A low hum in response. “Okay, that works.” She got up and swung her duffel bag onto her bed, sorting through her clothes until she located her workout clothes and running shoes.

 

“Are you seriously going for a run?” Beca had rolled her head sideways, one eye open as she watched Chloe pull off her shirt.

 

With a grunt, Chloe tugged a sports bra down over her head before swapping out the bra below it. “Yep. I hadn’t yet today.” Beca snorted. “Some of us like to keep to a workout schedule.” Chloe leaned over and poked Beca in the stomach as the DJ let out an indignant yelp. “Why, Miss Mitchell, did you do a sit-up at some point in the last year? I swear I felt an ab.”

 

“Oh shut up,” Beca muttered, that all too endearing blush spreading across her face. Fixing her eyes on the ceiling, she chewed on her bottom lip as Chloe switched out her shorts. Chloe had always been able to tell when Beca was distressed, and the wheels in her mind had clearly been turning since soon after they’d left the rest stop. She’d learned early on that it was best to give Beca a bit of time to come to her first; although she’d gotten better at letting her walls down throughout their friendship, there was the chance that she’d bolt like a scared rabbit if pushed too early.

 

Pulling her shoes on, Chloe palmed her keycard, phone, and swung her headphones around her finger. “You going to be all right here?”

 

“Uh huh.” Beca sat up, running her fingers through her hair. “Try not to trip over a cow or something.”

 

With a giggle and a wave, Chloe headed out of the room.

* * *

Beca had many reasons for wishing Chloe hadn’t left on a run. The one that most easily came to mind involved a set of clearly defined, tanned abdominal muscles and seemingly endless legs that Beca certainly had not been looking at while the older girl changed. On top of this, Beca actually was hungry, and she knew that it would’ve been easy to pout for a bit, maybe bat her eyelashes a couple times, and convince Chloe to get her food without even having to leave her bed.

 

But really, Beca didn’t want to be alone in the room because it gave her the opportunity to make a phone call that she’d been dreading for the past few hours. She’d known that some of the Trebles would be coming; despite the initially antagonistic relationship between the groups, they’d built a strong support system over the years with shared parties, even practices on occasion. Not to mention that it helped that their captains were dating.

 

As the phone rang, Beca hoped against all odds that her complete refusal to pick up phone calls from almost anyone had rubbed off on Jesse after years of dating. “Beca?” And she’d had a bit of hope after four rings.

 

“Jesse, hey.” Her voice was squeakier than she’d intended, and she sat back up, hanging her legs back over the bed. “How are you?”

 

“Uh, fine,” he replied, slow and hesitant. “You?”

 

“Good.”

 

The silence hung on the line before Jesse let out an awkward chuckle. “This is almost as bad as when I first made you watch The Breakfast Club.”

 

Beca grinned despite herself. “And we don’t even have Kimmy-Jin to blame this time.”

 

“Good old Kimmy-Jin. Any idea what she’s up to nowadays?”

 

“God,” Beca groaned. “Probably still plotting my murder for the time I disrupted her stack of sticky notes.”

 

“Yeah.” Jesse took a deep breath. “So. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier I was coming this weekend.”

 

“I mean, not really your responsibility. Not…”

 

“Not anymore, yeah.”

 

And it was almost embarrassing. Throughout senior year, Beca had watched as Bella after Bella resigned themselves to paying up for the bet, Ashley, Jessica, Lilly, and Flo all falling by Worlds. Amy had kept a suspicious eye on them at graduation, even sending Bumper as a totally unsubtle drone to suss out whether ‘Jeca,’ as Amy had termed it, was still a thing, to which Beca had triumphantly responded with the fact that Jesse had a plane ticket booked to Copenhagen.

 

They’d met up briefly before Worlds after Beca had broken two lunch dates because Chloe was truly on a tear regarding choreography adjustments, especially with the Bella alumnae, some of whom, as Chloe had put it, ‘danced as if they had hip replacements, even though only half of them actually did.’ American flag draped over his shoulders, Jesse assured her of their success before looking her over with that all too earnest expression on his face. He placed a kiss on her forehead, wrapping her in a warm hug for a moment before Stacie dragged her backstage.

 

So they’d won, and Beca was relatively sure that she’d remembered to blow a kiss in his direction at some point between hoisting the trophy and being carried offstage by a screaming mob of Bellas. Amy broke out a bottle of champagne that she’d stashed with the absurdly friendly Canadian team, standing on a platform directly above Chloe and Beca as she popped it. The foam poured onto their heads as they turned towards each other, squinting and endlessly smiling as Amy toasted to Bloe for ‘kissing and making up just in time for Worlds.’

 

Of course she’d had another bottle lying around, and so Beca’s head was spinning even before they made it to the after-party. She had one arm wrapped around Chloe as they staggered to the bar like contestants in a three-legged-race, and accepted whatever surely dangerous concoction Chloe ordered for her without question.

 

The next hour flew by as Stacie led the way to what she’d deemed the Champions platform, a small stage in the center of the auditorium. Beca couldn’t complain, as she was finally at eye level with the DSM leaders when they passed by to share grudging congratulations. As Kommissar shamelessly looked Beca up and down, Chloe clapped her hand over Beca’s mouth before any filter-less stupidity could escape. This quickly devolved into a tickling match when Beca licked Chloe’s hand to free herself, the redhead responding in turn by poking Beca in the side.

 

Beca didn’t even notice that Jesse was there until Stacie pointed over to Emily and Benji, engaged in an aggressively awkward lip-lock against the nearby wall. Jesse stood a couple feet away, arms crossed with a drink in his hand and looking exceedingly uncomfortable. As he caught sight of the Bellas and walked over, Beca shook Chloe’s hands off their current position on her hips and jumped off the platform.

 

As he opened his mouth to speak, Beca flung her arms around his neck and kissed him, tongue sliding between his lips as his hands found placement on her waist. “Hi,” she breathed, giving his bicep an appreciative squeeze as she stepped back.

 

“Hey,” Jesse said hesitantly, eyes behind her. After a moment, he took a sip of his drink and shook his head. “Want to go somewhere more quiet?”

 

Beca nodded, taking his offered hand and following him out of the arena. The night air was crisp, and Jesse shivered as they took a seat on a wall just far enough from the auditorium so they could only hear traces of the music every time the door opened. He sat with his shoulders hunched forwards, eyes deep in his drink as Beca cupped his jaw with her hand.

 

Turning his face towards her, she leaned in again, their lips colliding in a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss, all teeth and tongues without anything behind it. Jesse pulled back slowly, tongue licking his own lips as he met her eyes. “What’s going on, Becs?”

 

Beca adopted the widest smile she could. “What do you mean?” She leaned in again, only to have Jesse recoil and shrug off her hand that had landed on his shoulder.

 

“It’s not working.” Beca sat back, doing her best not to shrink under those intense brown eyes.

 

“Jesse, I—“

 

“That’s the most you’ve touched me in the last few months,” he said. “And we both know that sucked.”

 

Beca’s eyes darted away from his face as she combed her fingers nervously through her hair. “I’ve just been really busy with Worlds, and you had Nationals and—“

 

“C’mon, Beca. That’s not fair to either of us.” He took another sip. “We haven’t fit like that for a while.”

 

“I mean, it’s the first time that I’ve had to get like thirty Bellas ready for a performance in Copenhagen. Plus I had my internship, so really there’s just been like no time.”

 

“People in relationships find time,” Jesse replied, voice barely over a whisper. There was no hint of sharpness there, just some sort of acceptance as if it came after a long period of contemplation. “And I love being your friend, Becs, but I think that’s all I am to you.”

 

And she cared too much about him to disagree. She could maybe explain away the fact that they hadn’t had sex in three months to timing or roommate issues or stress, but there was no way to hide that their last real date had been before Christmas break, when he’d forced her to watch A Christmas Story. Beca had spent the whole time doing her best to pretend that she hadn’t just seen it with Chloe the night before. She looked back up slowly, bottom lip trapped between her teeth.

 

“I don’t know what to say.” He shrugged, face contorting for a moment before he forced a smile.

 

“Hey, it’s fine,” Jesse said. “We probably made it a hell of a lot longer than most people expected. Anyone besides you left in that stupid bet?”

 

Beca’s respondent laugh was shaky and hollow. “Stacie has a week from now, and Amy has right after Cynthia Rose’s wedding.” Her eyes dropped. “And Chloe.”

 

All Beca heard was a sharp, quick intake of breath before she felt Jesse’s hand on her shoulder. He was standing up, cup in his hand and a look of finality on his face. “Well, I think you can at least lie to Stacie for a week.” He took a step back, jaw working. “I love you, Becs. I really hope you find someone you’re willing to make the time for.”

 

And with that, he was gone. Beca heard the pounding bass from the auditorium as the door opened, and she briefly considered returning to the Bellas, drowning her sorrows in a couple tequila shots and letting the night lead where it would. The emptiness in her gut won over, and she’d spent the night walking the city and ignoring the vibrating phone in her pocket until she found a 24-hour coffee shop somewhere around three AM. She’d finally checked her texts a few hours after that to find eleven from Chloe, starting off with panicked texts that decreased in their legibility before turning into a stream of eggplant emojis that ended with ‘hae fn w Jesse’ and a winky face.

 

Stacie had sent her four of a similar ilk, and there was one from Emily at five AM asking if she was okay and reminding her that they were planning to leave the hotel for the airport at nine. Beca had gotten back to the hotel at 8:45, just in time to see Emily struggling with a clearly intoxicated Amy as Chloe checked them out with the front desk. And she’d sat in the back of the airport shuttle with the overwhelmed freshman and her Australian charge while Chloe shared a seat near the front with Stacie, turning around every few minutes to shoot Beca a quizzical stare, to which Beca responded with a half-grin and a meaningful eyebrow raise in Amy’s direction.

 

Thankfully, Amy hadn’t been in a state of mind to ask anything about the bet as Beca dragged her through security, looking up just to see a flash of red hair head off in the opposite direction of Beca’s terminal. And she and Jesse had texted intermittently throughout the summer, a bit stilted and uncomfortable at first, but eventually falling into the swing of the friendship they’d been sharing for about the last year. Nothing had really changed, except that ‘I love you’s’ were no longer on the table.

 

But this was the first time they’d talked on the phone, and Beca had never been particularly thrilled with that particular method of communication regardless. It turned out that his job start date had been pushed back a couple weeks, and he wanted a chance to see Benji and the other Trebles for one last time before entering the real world. If anyone could understand that, it was Beca.

 

“I mean, everything’s good on my end if it is on yours,” she said, eager to end the conversation as she realized Chloe had been gone for close to an hour.

 

“Yeah, totally.” Jesse sighed. “I’m glad you called. So I guess I’ll see you in a couple days?”

 

“Sounds good.”

 

“All right, Becaw. Looking forward to it.” He ended the call, and Beca dropped the phone onto her bed before falling face first into the pillows just as she heard the door open.

 

“New sort of cardio, Becs?” Beca rolled over slowly to see Chloe, unfairly dry for having been running for the last hour, massaging a kink out of her neck with one hand as she closed the door behind her with the other.

 

“Sorry,” Beca said, sitting up cross-legged as Chloe bent over into a stretch, giving her an unfairly clear view down her top. “Um, how was the run?”

 

Chloe stood back up, pulling her shirt up over her head in a fluid motion that forced Beca to jam her eyes shut for fear of extensive ogling. “It’s gorgeous out there. The wedding is going to be amazing, really. And the sunset and everything…you should’ve joined me.”

 

“Please. I’ve gone running with you before and it never ends well.”

 

Chloe shrugged as she stripped off her shorts, leaving her facing Beca in just her underwear. “Practice makes perfect.” She pulled her various shower articles out of her bag as Beca did her best to look anywhere else in the room. As she gathered them under her arm, she fixed Beca with a sly smile. “Maybe it’s for the best. We only have one shower, and I’m not sure how you’d feel about sharing.” With a wink, she flounced off into the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this chapter was longer than I expected too. This is interesting. I’m starting to set unrealistic goals for myself and I fear how they will pan out. Also, I do not mean to cast Jesse in a bad light in case I did. I personally think Jesse is a great dude. I just happen to think that his chemistry with Beca looks something like a wet dishrag when compared to Beca and Chloe. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed today’s installment of Mutually Thirsty Morons. Until I find another URL that even more accurately serves to represent my spirit (and it’s incredibly doubtful that that is possible), I’m over on Tumblr as bicamitchell if you want to say hi or yell at me about this. 
> 
> P.S. I just realized I’ve now written two chapters in this fic where no one used the f word. I’m fucking growing as an adult.


	4. Sweet Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe has magical powers and tequila. Beca has high heels and a Napoleon complex. They both have the relationship and social skills of a ferret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like these thirsty idiots just need to get locked in a room together or something to sort out their shit. I’m betting Stacie could figure out how to make that work if she wasn’t too busy off being the best Best Woman ever. For now, I’m just going to have to let these little shits do their own thing, because I clearly have no control over their actions in any way, shape, or form (anyone else ever feel like fanfiction is some weird form of literary Sims [I may have taken too many philosophy classes in college]).

Chloe had volunteered to go hunt down dinner for the two of them while Beca showered, and though the options were really limited to the hotel restaurant and a couple of vending machines, she’d managed to get something to go from a particularly flustered waiter after she’d given him her best gleaming smile (and maybe leaned forward a bit farther in her tank top than necessary). Balancing the Styrofoam boxes against her hip, she opened the door to their room.

 

“Dude! Knock!” Beca stood by her bed, a pillow frantically pulled over her body.

 

Chloe slammed the door shut behind her with a giggle, turning to face the door and praying that her hair covered the flush that had surely spread to her ears. “It’s not like I haven’t seen it before,” she said.

 

“That doesn’t make it any better!” Beca sighed, and Chloe could hear the shifting of fabric and the pillow being dropped to the bed. “Okay, you’re good now.”

 

Turning slowly, Chloe held out the food with a sheepish smile. Beca was in a pair of shorts and one of Chloe’s shirts, clearly grabbed from her open duffel bag. She stepped forwards and took the top box, struggling to maintain her frown as she opened it to reveal a burger and fries.

 

“Sorry, I figured you’d still be in the shower or something.” Chloe sat on her own bed, pushing aside her bag.

 

“Some of us don’t take forty five years and then still not have the decency to unclog the drain,” Beca muttered, popping a fry into her mouth. Her damp hair had already started to pick up that natural wave that Chloe loved, soft and gentle and always framing the details of her face perfectly. “I thought you were going to go drive and get food somewhere in town anyways. How’d you even manage this?”

 

Chloe shrugged. “I have my ways.” She unwrapped the pack of plastic utensils that the kid had somehow magically produced at Chloe’s slightest hint that she didn’t want to eat a salad with her hands or inconvenience the restaurant by stealing metal silverware.

 

She heard a huff from across the room, looking up to see Beca grimacing at the box on her legs. “I wish I had some—“ A few packets of barbecue sauce hit her in the chest, and she gave Chloe a thankful grin as she pulled the bun off of her burger.

 

“I swear, someone would think you’re the Southerner out of the two of us,” Chloe said, yelping as the salad dressing pouch she’d opened squirted onto her shirt. Beca snorted, a fry hanging out of her mouth as she tossed Chloe a napkin from her box. “Okay, who taught you to eat?”

 

In typical five-year-old fashion, Beca started chewing with her mouth open as Chloe groaned and turned her eyes back to her salad. “What, am I not properly fulfilling the duties and responsibilities of a Bella woman?”

 

“You should probs start fearing for your vocal chords. Wolves and all.” Chloe paused thoughtfully with the fork on her bottom lip. “Though you’ve already failed that part. Getting Treble boned and all?”

 

She could swear Beca winced for a moment before the trademarked Mitchell half-smirk returned. “Don’t tell me I have to go back to the old Bella rules just because Aubrey’s around. First of all, I _am_ a former captain. Second of all, we’ve graduated.”

 

“I mean, you gave in and got rid of the ear monstrosities, didn’t you?”

 

“Don’t push it.” It had always amazed Chloe how quickly someone as tiny as Beca could eat, but, as usual, the brunette had finished her food just as Chloe had barely gotten started. She dropped the empty box onto the floor and fell backwards onto the bed with a huff. “Sorry about taking your shirt.”

 

“No biggie,” Chloe replied between bites. “I’m pretty sure you stole that one for like three months at some point, anyways.”

 

Beca picked at the shirt, tilting her head up to get a better look at it. “Oh yeah.” She drummed on her stomach with fingers, some complicated rhythm to a song only she could hear. “So what’s the plan for tonight? Because I wasn’t allowed in on the secret dealings and all, I didn’t really bring too many outfits.”

 

Chloe closed her half-finished salad and placed it on the bedside table. “Probably just going to a bar or something. I don’t know if there’s a place to get _too_ crazy around here.”

 

“If there is, Stacie will definitely find it.” Beca rolled off her bed, landing on the floor with an undignified thump before turning to open her suitcase.

 

“Yeah, you’re right about that.” Chloe picked through her own bag, smirking when she pulled out the bottle of tequila she’d stashed away. “But I’m sure you’ll be fine. You look great in anything.”

 

She could hear the tight swallow from Beca’s throat even as she chose not to respond, the rustling of the clothes in her suitcase halting for a moment. Their breathing filled the air for a moment, Beca’s a bit shorter and more shallow than usual. Beca eventually broke the silence by dropping what sounded like a pair of shoes onto the floor.

 

“So I’m gonna go finish getting ready in the bathroom.” Chloe turned to face Beca, who was standing up with a bundle of clothes under her arm. Her eyes narrowed as they landed on the bottle of tequila next to Chloe. “Is that a wedding gift for CR? Pretty college of you, Chlo.”

 

Chloe shook her head, her best innocent smile on her face. “Nope,” she said brightly. “Figured we could use our own supply of Jiggle Juice.”

 

“Isn’t Jiggle Juice vodka-based?”

 

With an errant hand wave, Chloe took up the bottle, tossing it back and forth between her hands. “Semantics. Plus, I prefer to think of Jiggle Juice as a state of mind.” Beca rolled her eyes, passing by Chloe on her way to the bathroom. “And Becs?” The brunette paused for a moment, raising an eyebrow as she turned back. “It was Everclear.”

 

“Oh God.”

* * *

 

By the time Beca came out of the bathroom, Chloe had fixed them both some sort of concoction out of tequila and orange juice that she figured the redhead gotten from the vending machine. Beca could smell the alcohol even as the cup was still in Chloe’s hand, and her nose wrinkled as she took it hesitantly. “Are you trying to kill me?”

 

Chloe winked, taking a sip from her own cup as she turned back to the mirror, wiping at a rare, errant smudge of eyeliner. And Beca could not help but appreciate exactly how Chloe Beale could wear a pair of jeans, no matter how creepy it made her feel. Then again, Chloe Beale could wear pretty much anything, and Beca had actually had an extensive drunken conversation with Stacie at one point about the likelihood of Chloe being able to pull off a potato sack.

 

She turned back around, Beca’s eyes shooting up to meet Chloe’s instead of lingering on the neckline of her top. As always, Chloe was a bit more shameless, eyes roaming up and down Beca’s body in a way that always seemed to linger between joking and genuine. “You know, you do clean up nicely,” Chloe said, free hand resting on her hips.

 

Beca rolled her eyes even as she felt the blush spread across her face, figuring the two might balance each other out. “Shut up,” she muttered, struggling with the strap on her heels.

 

“You’re getting a bit formal, aren’t you?” Beca answered with only a grunt, looking up as Chloe bit her lip to hold in a giggle. “Oh my god, you totally didn’t want to be the short one.”

 

“It gets annoying, okay?”

 

The clear laughter rang through the room as Chloe gave up, leaning back against the dresser. A bit of her drink sloshed over the rim of the cup, because Chloe could never laugh without her whole body being involved. As Beca looked back down to adjust her left heel, she could feel Chloe filling her space.

 

“You’ll always be my favorite tiny human.” Beca looked up to find Chloe’s lips about an inch from her forehead, her breath catching in her throat. She managed a hum in response before refastening the strap and leaning down to pick up her own drink from the floor.

 

Thankfully for the sake of Beca’s sanity, Chloe’s phone started vibrating in the back of her pocket, and the taller girl stepped back as she answered it. “Hey Bree. Uh huh? Yeah, sure. Just knock. See y’all soon.”

 

“We’re breaking out the y’all’s now?” Beca fixed her with the most judgmental stare she could manage.

 

“Old habits.” Chloe took a huge gulp of her drink, scrunching up her face as she swallowed. “I might have made this a little strong.”

 

Beca nodded slowly, the liquor already starting to burn in her stomach. “So Aubrey and Stacie are coming over then?”

 

“Yep,” Chloe responded with a wide grin. “There’s like half an hour to kill before Cynthia Rose and Hayley get here, and Stacie has margarita mix. Apparently great minds really do think alike.”

 

“I thought Aubrey swore off tequila after that incident after the first Nationals win?”

 

“Well, then she’ll just have to _lodge_ a complaint with us or _leave_.”

 

Beca’s eyebrows shot up as Chloe fixed herself another drink, shoulders shaking with her attempts to hold in her laughter. “Who the hell gave you permission to make puns?”

 

“It’s for the good of the world, Beca,” Chloe said. “You’re not allowed to be the only funny one in this relationship.”

 

And the room froze for a moment before Chloe, as always in these little situations, broke the tension, this time by asking Beca to pick out some music. She complied, pulling out the portable speaker from her backpack just as a knock sounded at the door. Chloe, cup still in hand, opened the door to let Stacie in, towering in a pair of heels that made Beca very glad she’d brought her own.

 

Aubrey followed, and Stacie gave Beca an appreciative nod as she stood up after placing the speaker on the bedside table. “Damn, Beca. Maybe I was wrong about Chloe being the hot one.” Chloe punched her in the shoulder, an action against which Stacie retaliated by thwacking her with the bottle of margarita mix.

 

And even Aubrey seemed to relax, though she did shoot Chloe a particularly confused look when she doubled over laughing as Aubrey asked whether they had any alcohol other than tequila. At one point, Stacie suggested body shots, which Chloe seemed to be wholly in support of and was only stopped by their lack of limes. The redhead sat on her bed pouting for a few minutes until Beca sat down behind her, throwing her arms around her shoulders as they watched Stacie and Aubrey argue about some economic theory that Beca couldn’t even begin to understand.

 

She was twirling a piece of Chloe’s hair between her fingers as Chloe fed her sips of margarita from her own cup when she realized that Aubrey was watching them very closely, eyes flicking over every so often between turning back to contradict Stacie’s every statement. It was almost like freshman year all over again as Beca stared the blonde down, very much missing her ear monstrosities that had seemed to distress Aubrey the most. Aubrey responded with that furrow of her eyebrows that Beca had come to interpret as a warning shot before some sort of explosive argument between them, but lost any interest to continue any further as Chloe placed a kiss on her cheek.

 

Maybe cheek wasn’t the proper word for the location, as there was definite contact with the corner of Beca’s lips before Chloe pulled back, fixing her with the goofy drunk Chloe grin. She could never resist smiling back in turn, a smile that Amy used to joke almost broke her face as it was particularly unused to the motion. At this point, after four years of Jiggle Juice Chloe, it sometimes required concerted effort on Beca’s part to not let this turn into a default expression.

 

“Shit.” Beca looked up to see Stacie, hopelessly blotting at her shirt with a paper napkin left over from Chloe and Beca’s dinner, a dark stain forming from her spilled drink.

 

“Okay, well that’s going to do just about nothing,” Aubrey said, grabbing Stacie by the arm and pulling her into the bathroom before closing the door behind them.

 

Beca poked Chloe under her chin to get her attention, rewarded immediately with a giggle. “Are we not going to talk about them closing the door?”

 

Chloe knocked her head lightly against Beca’s jaw. “Aubrey’s really good at getting out stains,” she whispered. “She’s passionate about it.”

 

“Honestly, I only ever thought Aubrey was passionate about a capella and ridding the world of ladders.” Beca’s thumb lightly ran along Chloe’s jawline, and the older girl leaned further back into her with a small sigh.

 

“Mmm.” The murmur was delivered with that distant quality Chloe’s voice took on so rarely that Beca could likely number its occurrences on one hand. “Whatever floats your boat, makes you happy…all that.”

 

“You all right there, Beale?” Chloe turned slowly, Beca leaning forwards so she wouldn’t have to unclasp her arms from around her friend’s back. She settled again with Chloe’s forehead against her own, the slight bump from Chloe’s scar right above her own eyebrow.

 

Chloe licked her lips, her breath ghosting against Beca’s face as she opened her mouth to speak. “I’m great, Becs.” Her hands, finding purchase on Beca’s knees, squeezed them lightly. “I missed you.”

 

Beca nodded, her hair falling to mingle with Chloe’s own as she inclined her head. “Yeah, same.”

 

“You always did have a way with words,” Chloe giggled. It was almost too perfect, a goddamn movie moment with their bodies pressed against in each other in as many places as they could manage from their current position, and Beca started to give fewer fucks about $1000 bets with each passing second. She’d wanted to kiss her best friend for about every moment of the past two years, and every confusing shared glance and infuriating interrupted moment was the only thing between them right now.

 

Other than Beca’s phone lying between their legs, of course, which chose that moment to start ringing, interrupting the playlist and causing Chloe to fall back dramatically. She rolled over and grabbed her drink from where she’d left it on the bedside table, sipping it while staring at Beca over the cup as she answered the phone.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Damn, Mitchell, you’d think you’d be a bit nicer to a girl at her own wedding.” Cynthia Rose sounded endlessly amused, and Beca couldn’t stop herself from beaming at the sound of her friend’s voice. “We’re in the lobby if you pitches wanna get down here.”

 

Aubrey and Stacie came out of the bathroom, the latter girl wearing a confused expression at the disrupted music. Beca held up her hand in a brief wave, mouthing Cynthia Rose’s name. “Yes ma’am,” Beca said. “Be right there.”

 

She hung up and poked Chloe in the side until she groaned and placed her cup down on the floor before leaning up and clumsily swinging her legs around the bed. So maybe there was one time when Chloe Beale wasn’t the most graceful human being in the world. “Make sure you have your ID, Becs.” Chloe faced Beca with a mischievous waggle of her eyebrows. “If they just go off your height, they’ll probably turn you away for being twelve.”

 

“We’re back on the short jokes?”

 

“Were we ever off them?” Stacie added, waving her shirt in an attempt to dry it as Aubrey’s eyes followed her. “C’mon, I don’t wanna keep the brides waiting.” She downed the rest of her drink and headed for the door, arm waving behind her in a motion to follow.

 

Beca stuck the phone that she currently hated into the back pocket of her jeans, grabbing Chloe by the hand to pull her up off the bed. After making sure that she had her room key, haunted by memories of Chloe getting them locked out of their room on two separate occasions through years of competitions, she followed Stacie, Chloe and Aubrey in tow.

 

Cynthia Rose was sitting on a couch in the lobby, arm slung around a breathtakingly gorgeous blonde, long-legged and beaming as she laughed at whatever her fiancée had just whispered into her ear. The two stood up as Stacie rounded the corner first, letting out a screech and pulling them both into a hug.

 

“Didn’t you just see them a couple hours ago?” Beca asked, her intended grouchy affect lost with the yelp she gave out as Cynthia Rose broke free from Stacie to pick up and spin her. 

 

“Don’t try to pretend you’re not happy to see me, Mitchell,” Cynthia Rose said, releasing Beca onto the ground with a ruffle of her hair. Beca rolled her eyes before finally allowing a grin to spread across her face as she lightly punched Cynthia Rose in the shoulder. Hayley came up behind her fiancée.

 

“Hey there, you must be Beca.” Her voice was tinted with that Tennessee twang that occasionally showed itself in Chloe’s speech, but she did not seem to share Chloe’s complete lack of personal boundaries as she gave Beca’s shoulder a friendly squeeze by way of greeting.

 

Drunken Chloe, of course, had even fewer personal boundaries, and gave Hayley a crushing hug from behind. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!” Hayley chuckled as she turned around to face Chloe, returning the hug and giving Beca a small hint of satisfaction as she towered over the redhead. As everyone introduced themselves and got reacquainted, Beca took the opportunity to step back, breathe, and try to tune out the thoughts that had endlessly been running through her head since they’d left the room.

 

Beca Mitchell wasn’t a romantic, not by any stretch of the imagination, but she didn’t really want her first kiss with Chloe to be while they were drunk and sitting on a crappy hotel bed, surely to be broken up in about two seconds by a shrieking Stacie and Aubrey. She had enough self-control to hold herself back from that at least, and yeah, she wanted to kiss her best friend and she’d wanted to for a while, but she could manage to wait until the moment was right. Definitely. And hell, if she could make it through the wedding and pocket $1000 on top of that, really nothing was lost.

 

Cynthia Rose stepped back from the pile of bodies imitating a group hug, raising her hands for attention. “So, there’s a bar like twenty minutes from here,” she shouted, waving at Stacie and Chloe until they stopped giggling. “And, because my fiancée is as wonderful as she is absolutely gorgeous, she has agreed to drive us so we can have a good time.”

 

“I believe the term I used was ‘get aca-wasted,’” Hayley added. Aubrey gave an almost automatic appreciative nod until she caught Stacie staring at her, biting back a laugh. “But yeah, I’d like to see some of the craziness from all of those stories C’s told me about y’all.” She pulled a key ring out of the pocket of her jeans, grabbed Cynthia Rose’s hand, and gestured towards the door.

 

Stacie and Chloe led the way out, arms linked, with Aubrey hanging right behind them. Cynthia Rose pulled Beca over to her with a jerk of her head, leaning in. “You all right there?”

 

Beca fixed a perhaps too wide smile on her face as she nodded vigorously. “Totally fine,” she said. When Cynthia Rose quirked her eyebrow in disbelief, Beca turned hopelessly to face Hayley, who shrugged back before pulling her fiancée by the hand and sparing Beca from further inquisition.

* * *

It was a small bar, and this did not make Chloe particularly happy. It was homey, intimate, and clean, which were all truly important, but they’d had to split into two different groups to sit down. The only booth had been taken by a group of truckers who Chloe did not want to confront, despite Beca’s endless ‘fight me’ attitude and both her and Aubrey’s astonishing ability to stop human hearts with a single glare.

 

So they’d gone three and three at two different tables, with Beca insisting that she sit with Cynthia Rose and Hayley so that she could get to know the latter girl better, because everyone else had interacted with her extensively when they’d “been leaving her out of all of the wedding planning.” Chloe stuck her tongue out at this last statement, and Beca had blushed, of all things, before heading to the bar to get them drinks.

 

Chloe and Beca had ended up sitting on the far sides of each table so they were facing each other, and Chloe was honestly paying more attention to Beca than to her table companions. For all of her efforts to be moody, badass, and mysterious, Beca had one of the most expressive faces Chloe had ever seen. When they’d first met, it had been used largely for seventy-five different variations of frowns, judgmental smirks, and the rare enigmatic smile that made Chloe’s stomach flip, but even as that range had increased, Chloe couldn’t help but be fascinated by every slight twitch of those lips or crease of that brow.

 

Beca was laughing at something Hayley had said, her slight shoulders shaking as she lifted her drink to her lips. Her eyes traveled to Chloe’s as she sipped, the slightest raise of her lips warped by the glass. Chloe’s eyes stayed on Beca’s mouth as she placed her drink back on the table, clamping her own shut to hide the breath that was already hitching in her chest.

 

“Jesus, Red.” Stacie kicked her under the table, startling her attention away from Beca. “Could you be any more obvious?”

 

Chloe looked to Aubrey for support, eyes innocently widened, but even her oldest friend wasn’t having it. The blonde shook her head slowly, eyes meeting Stacie’s knowingly, before they turned back to Chloe in sync. “You’ve never been particularly good at being subtle, Chloe,” Aubrey said slowly. “Especially when it came to Beca.”

 

“There are people lost in the desert who are less thirsty,” Stacie added. “Does this mean the bet’s settled?”

 

Chloe snorted, spinning the straw in her obnoxiously pink drink around the rim of the glass. “Please.” She felt Aubrey’s hand land on her arm with a gentle squeeze, and looked up to see that soft, worrying expression that she always wore when it came to Chloe and Beca. “I’m fine, Bree. Really.” Her eyes flicked over to Beca, who was running her fingers slowly through her hair, licking her lips quickly before responding to Cynthia Rose.

 

“So we still don’t know about Jesse?” Stacie’s forehead creased as she settled her chin on her hand. “I mean, any idea what he’s doing real-world wise? Because I honestly can’t see Beca doing long-distance no matter what.”

 

Aubrey squeezed Chloe’s arm again as her stomach plummeted. “Have you heard anything yet?”

 

“I have an email, but I haven’t opened it,” Chloe replied.

 

“Have you told Beca yet?” Chloe glanced up silently in question. “Oh, sorry. Aubrey told me about the application and all.”

 

“Oh.” She responded to Aubrey’s apologetic half-grin by squeezing the hand on top of her arm. “Not yet. I didn’t want to worry her or put my stuff on her or anything if it didn’t work out. And I didn’t want to pressure her if it did and…”

 

“Yeah.” Stacie nodded slowly. “When are you planning to check?”

 

Chloe sucked in her cheeks, eyes dropping to the table. “I don’t know,” she murmured. “Probably after the wedding?” She finished her drink as the other two nodded again, almost comically connected. “But—“ and she plastered a smile back on her face “—I’m going to go to the bathroom, and then I want to hear all about your love lives when I get back.” She pushed herself off from the table, head spinning slightly, and made her way to the back hallway, around the corner, and into the dingy bathroom.

 

Her makeup was less of a mess than she’d expected, and she quickly fixed the mascara and lipstick smudges before leaning against the sink with a deep breath. To be honest, she’d spent the last hour or so trying to analyze whatever the hell had happened between her and Beca back at the hotel. Their relationship or friendship or whatever was made up of so many confusing moments that Chloe’s obsessive, overly analytic side was always taking charge of things in these cases, but it had gotten particularly hard in the last year or so to place that line that Chloe had always attempted to toe.

 

The second Beca had kissed Jesse, Chloe had backed off in the physical realm, as much as she could, but the point had come where Beca no longer pulled her hand away if it touched Chloe’s, sometimes even subtly moving hers closer and sliding their fingers together. When Jesse had officially become ‘the boyfriend,’ Chloe no longer busted into Beca’s room without knocking, figuring that she could walk in on something that she _really_ did not want to see, but Beca seemed to have pick up Chloe’s habit and would just show up in the attic single unannounced. Every time Chloe had struggled to leave Jesse a space in Beca’s life, Beca had thrust it right back at her, smiling and laughing and completely unaware of what this did to both of the other parties involved.

 

And yeah, they’d been in enough similar situations to the one in the hotel room that Chloe could not find a way to interpret it well enough to react, so she simply filed it away as yet another thing she’d face after the wedding. She let out a deep sigh and opened the bathroom door, only to smack right into Beca.

 

“Woah.” The space between the walls was so tight that it barely allowed for an inch of air between them, Beca’s eye-line at Chloe’s own, thanks to her heels. In her surprise, Beca had stuck out her hands, one landing against the wall and one at Chloe’s waist, pushing her shirt up slightly so that Beca’s wrist brushed against bare skin. And Chloe could not cover the slight moan that this contact elicited from her, two pairs of blown blue eyes meeting as Chloe thanked god for the fact that no one could see them.

 

Beca’s hand still didn’t move even as she attempted to shift to one side, and Chloe could feel fire spreading across her body from the point of contact. She slid against the wall herself in an endeavor to help Beca extricate herself, catching the tiny brunette off guard and sending her tumbling forwards. Before Chloe could stop her own motion, Beca landed with hands on either side of Chloe’s body and Chloe’s thigh between her own.

 

The shuddering groan slipping from Beca’s throat sent a shock down Chloe’s spine. Her eyes demanded Beca’s attention, the younger girl trapping her bottom lip between her own teeth as if to stop any further sounds from escaping. The heat separating them was almost suffocating as all of Chloe’s will turned to refusing every motion that her body craved.

 

“Regretting wearing those heels, Becs?” It came out in a voice so husky that Chloe almost didn’t recognize it as her own. Beca swallowed heavily, eyes moving to Chloe’s lips as the taller girl leaned in.

 

“We should probably go back,” Beca whispered, the brush of air from her words so close that Chloe was at first convinced that Beca’s lips were on her own.

 

“Didn’t you just leave to go to the bathroom?”

 

“Yeah.” And Chloe could feel as Beca’s hands left the space around her body, closing her eyes as if that would erase the fact that the brunette was pulling back from her. “But you didn’t.” Beca sidled along the wall until she was to Chloe’s side, standing in front of the bathroom door she’d never closed. “I’ll see you back there?”

 

Chloe nodded wordlessly, eyes still shut as her skin burned despite Beca’s absence. She opened them as she heard the door latch, let out a sharp exhale of breath, and shook her head lightly as if there was any chance she could clear her mind when all that filled it was Beca. And there was a part of her that wanted to check her phone at that moment, wanted to open that email and make it easy and let it decide for her whether she should wait at that door for another chance or let them continue on in this maddening game for a bit longer.

 

But there was nothing regarding Beca Mitchell that was or should be easy, and so Chloe returned to the table, prompting Stacie into a discussion of The Hunter’s exploits for the last few months.

* * *

The rest of the night had passed without incident, though it had taken Beca a good ten minutes in the bathroom before she’d trusted herself to go out and even look Chloe in the eye again after moaning like a horny teenager in the hallway. But conversation with the others was easy, and Hayley was honestly one of the most fascinating people Beca had met, a Duke graduate with a Chem degree who would be working in a New York City tech startup growing synthetic leather and creating proteins and chemicals through processes that Beca couldn’t get close to understanding. She was brilliant and quick with a comeback, and even had a solid musical ear, as Beca discovered when Just the Way You Are came on the speakers and the Bellas began reflexively harmonizing.

 

Because the remainder of the wedding party would be arriving mid-day tomorrow, they left the bar around 11, Cynthia Rose giving Beca a lengthy wink as she wished them all a good night when she and Hayley dropped them off at the hotel. Beca had rolled her eyes and waved, an uncharacteristically quiet Chloe following her to their room. The redhead had dropped face first onto her bed once the door was shut, simply grumbling and flapping her hand when Beca asked her if she wanted to brush her teeth first. Changed into an old Bella tshirt that had most likely been Chloe’s in the past, Beca found herself leaving a kiss on the back of Chloe’s head before climbing into her own bed and shutting the lights off.

 

She’d been woken up by a series of texts from Emily at 9:30, stretching three hours back and chronicling her journey as she’d landed at the airport, gotten her luggage, located breakfast, and met Lilly at the bus station in Boston to ride up together. Beca groaned, rolling over to her left to find the other bed in the room already made with a note sitting on it. Of course even a Chloe Beale who had been hilariously drunk the night before woke up for a run.

 

It turned out to be a particularly long one, as Beca was halfway through drying her hair after her shower when Chloe returned, back to her normal self as she lightly swatted Beca with her towel as she headed into the bathroom. Beca shouted something after her about personal space and sweat, but sat there grinning like an idiot as she heard Chloe launch into ‘Style’ as the water turned on.  

 

“What’s the plan for today?” Beca shouted, cutting through Taylor Swift and the water pressure as best as she could. She gave up after two more unsuccessful inquiries, to which Chloe responded only by singing louder as she worked her way through half of 1989.

 

Beca was in the middle of reordering Cynthia Rose’s requested reception playlist when she felt a drip of water on her shoulder. She pulled her headphones down around her neck, turning to see a towel-clad Chloe standing next to her, eyebrow quirked inquisitively. “You wanted something?”

 

After a few coughs, Beca managed to fix her eyes on Chloe’s as she nodded. “Yeah. Um, what’s the plan for today? Like timing and stuff?”

 

“Em and Lilly are supposed to get here around noon, I think? So we’re just helping out at the farm and going over the deets and everything until they do.” Chloe leaned forwards, both her and Beca’s eyes shooting to the screen in front of her. “Making some changes?”

 

“Yeah,” Beca said, blinking slowly as a strand of wet crimson hair brushed against her cheek. “I didn’t like some of the transitions.”

 

Chloe sucked in her cheeks as she always did while thinking, straightening back up as she slightly readjusted her towel. “Well, I trust you with this one.” And that goddamn wink as she turned back, Beca’s eyes tracking the path of a drop of water from the base of her hair until it disappeared below the towel at her mid-back.

 

It was unfair. At this point, any romantic notions that Beca had were getting ripped down with every shared brush of their skin, quick winks or glances, and little passing comments that Beca was sure she was interpreting in the way that only an emotionally stunted moron could.

 

And of course Stacie, taking charge as Best Woman, had set Beca and Chloe together on kitchen duty, running through the courses and drinks and tiny details that Beca could not give half a flying fuck about for each meal. The cook and his staff seemed to sense Beca’s mood, allowing her a good five foot berth at all times as Chloe floated around the room. She bounced back to Beca every few minutes to force her to try an appetizer or dessert or sauce, at once point sticking her finger into Beca’s mouth to make her taste the frosting on a cupcake. Beca’s eyes had shot open, catching what she swore was a smirk on Chloe’s face as she pulled her finger slowly back before turning back to discuss scheduling with the flustered sous chef who’d observed this exchange.

 

So Beca had done her best to avoid any further issues, settling herself in a back corner to inspect plates for chips or smudges or anything. Chloe seemed inclined to leave her alone, and Beca had made it a very relaxed and comfortable ten minutes with overpriced china and a set of metal plate racks as her companion. In fact, she’d been going through the reception playlist, mapping out a few transition mixes she could throw together quickly that would solve the issues she’d been having.

 

Somewhere between Walk the Moon and MKTO, Beca felt a hand land on her shoulder. “Dude!” She barely managed to catch the plate she’d been holding in her shock, another hand attached to a wrist marked with a ladybug tattoo grabbing her arm in an attempt to help.

 

Beca placed the plate onto the rack to her right, Chloe’s hand dropping slowly as the shorter girl looked up. “Sorry,” Chloe said, voice low and a very unapologetic smile radiating from her face with that light that broke Beca’s grimace before it could begin. “Everything all right back here?”

 

“Um. Yeah. Plates are still plates.” She chuckled weakly, becoming all too aware of Chloe’s other hand that hadn’t left her shoulder. Chloe’s thumb rested on the bare skin of Beca’s neck, close enough to her pressure point that she just had to shift by the breadth of a hair to understand exactly what she was doing to Beca at that moment. And, just as at the rental lot, it was as if Chloe had forgotten where her hand was, simply going about normal daily business as she stood on her toes to peer at the plates on the rack above Beca’s head.

 

“I’m honestly a little surprised at the china pattern,” Chloe mused, Beca closing her eyes as the adjusted height difference put her at a particularly dangerous level in relation to Chloe’s chest. “I guess Hayley picked it out?”

 

Beca barely registered the question as Chloe pushed off with her connected arm, thumb ghosting against Beca’s collarbone. Every ounce of Beca’s existence was dedicated to breathing slowly and evenly and staying as still as possible. This all fell apart as a second hand gripped the upper half of her other arm, and her eyes opened to find Chloe’s, abnormally dark and ruled by widened pupils. “Hey. Did I lose you there?”

 

And if Beca Mitchell had had any ounce of herself left between the spaces filled by Chloe, she would have made some sarcastic comment about what Chloe was going to lose later or tried that confident eyebrow raise-smirk combo that Stacie had termed the ‘Mitchell panty-dropper’ after a particular Nationals performance. But Beca Mitchell had no room left in her at all, and so she simply grabbed Chloe by the arm and dragged her through the door next to them, pushing her up against it as it shut and closing the only space left between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this got a hell of a lot longer than I planned. Well. Did I ever mention that I have a complete inability to do slow burns? Yeah. Some day, I’ll mature and learn and be like the cool kids. Until then, I’m over on tumblr as bicamitchell if you want to yell at me.


	5. Don't Tell 'Em

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Normal wedding planning continues. 100%.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I don’t really know what to say here because we’re picking up right after the end of Chapter Four so I’m avoiding spoilers but hot damn y’all do not like cliffhangers! They make the resolution that much better…or that’s what I’m telling myself. Whatever. Enjoy.

At first, Chloe was convinced that it had to be a dream. If her hands hadn’t been otherwise occupied, she probably would’ve pinched herself just to check, but the moan with which she was rewarded as the tip of her thumb slipped under Beca’s shirt sent vibrations down her spine that couldn’t be attributed to anything other than a very real sensation. Beca’s mouth was desperate and needy against her own, the miniscule amount of air left between them hot and cloying.

 

Beca’s hands slipped around to the small of Chloe’s back, closing any remaining space and pulling Chloe flush against her. It was almost a sensory overload; every tension and emotion and excruciating physical drive from the last four years, only amplified by the last 36 hours or so, was bursting throughout Chloe’s body, spreading like fiery needles across every inch of her being. Her hands clung to Beca like an anchor, that strange reality that had thrust her out of her own in one instant.

 

Beca chose that precise moment to cup the curve of Chloe’s ass, and the older girl pulled back with a gasp, eyes rolling back in her head as her hands moved up to Beca’s rib cage. Chloe felt pressure against her jawline, and she opened her eyes to find Beca’s other hand tilting her head down, eyes wild and dark as she’d ever seen them.

 

Running her thumbs along Beca’s ribs to her side, Chloe nipped lightly at the space between Beca’s earlobe and the top of her jaw. Beca groaned, trying her best to pull Chloe into a space that did not exist, eventually settling for pushing her own body up onto a shelf and allowing Chloe to slip between her legs. And she did, tilting her body so one of her thighs pressed up against the meeting of Beca’s.

 

“Fuck, Chlo.” It was shaky, shuddering and whispered into Chloe’s ear as both of Beca’s hands slipped up the back of her shirt, fingers digging in against the redhead’s spine. Chloe moved down to suck on Beca’s pressure point, the other girl’s hips reflexively pushing forwards in response. A stream of curses flowed from Beca’s lips, the first words either of them had spoken since Beca had suddenly grabbed Chloe and pulled her into wherever the hell they were.

 

Unfortunately, even endless expletives were enough to engage the logical part of Chloe’s brain, and she jerked her head back from Beca’s neck. Beca’s eyes snapped open, her brow furrowing as she frantically searched Chloe’s face for some sort of explanation. And Chloe couldn’t filter herself, nor did she really have full control over much of anything at this point, so she only managed one word. “Jesse.”

 

Beca bit her lip, eyes flicking down as if to note that Chloe’s hands still remained underneath her shirt. With a sigh, she shook her head. “Um. That’s not really…a thing. Anymore.”

 

Chloe’s hands fell slowly as Beca sat up, or tilted her body up as much as she could with Chloe still filling most of her space. “What do you mean?”

 

“We broke up.” Chloe’s eyebrow shot up, and she could feel the grin starting to spread across her face. “At Worlds.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Their eyes met, as if confirming the next question before it left Chloe’s lips. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

Beca shrugged, eyes nervously flitting around the room as they always did when she felt uncomfortable. “I just didn’t know how. And I didn’t…didn’t know how you’d respond.”

 

“Really?” Chloe’s hands had only left Beca’s shirt to rest on her hips, fitting against sharp hipbones that she squeezed lightly as if Beca needed a reminder.

 

“I don’t know, Chlo!” Beca’s thumb rubbed increasingly erratic circles against Chloe’s back. “I’m not good at figuring these things out and I didn’t want to try and do it when we were over a thousand miles apart and I didn’t want to put pressure on you or anything and—“

 

Chloe broke the frantic monologue with a soft kiss, lips barely sliding across Beca’s as she moved a hand up to cup her cheek. “I thought I’d been pretty clear about where I stood,” she whispered.

 

Beca exhaled sharply. “I just didn’t want to mess anything up. You’re my best friend, and…shit. Well, that’s kind of more important than anything else.” She chuckled for a moment before meeting Chloe’s eyes. “Though I can’t really complain about all this.”

 

“I am pretty confident about it.” Their shoulders shook with a shared laugh, and Beca removed her hands from Chloe’s back before pushing up as if she wanted to stand. Reluctantly, Chloe stepped back, leaning against the shelf behind her to look at the disheveled figure in front of her.

 

Beca’s hair was mussed from where Chloe had locked onto it soon after the kiss began, completely ruining the work Beca had put into straightening it after her shower. Eyes adjusted to the dark, Chloe could see three distinct marks forming on Beca’s neck, the worst right above the collar of Beca’s crumpled shirt. Her chest was still heaving, her pupils blown and dilated, and it was one of the hottest sights Chloe had ever seen.

 

So really, she couldn’t help herself at all when Beca pulled that ridiculous move of hers, biting her bottom lip and looking at the ground before slowly, painfully dragging her eyes up to meet Chloe’s. By that point, Chloe was already surging forwards, hands grasping Beca’s waist and pushing her forth until they met resistance against some object that tilted Beca’s lower half towards Chloe. She responded by wrapping a leg around Chloe’s waist for balance, gasping when Chloe’s mouth landed on her neck.

 

Beca’s shirt was down to one fastened button when she pulled back and started giggling uncontrollably. Chloe looked up, a strong pout on her face as Beca tried to catch her breath. “Not the reaction I normally get,” Chloe said slowly.

 

“You almost have my shirt off and I just realized we’re in a meat freezer.” Chloe looked around, the racks of packaged pork and sausage and other unidentifiable substances confirming Beca’s statement.

 

“Well, we were a bit too distracted to notice before.” She slid her fingers up Beca’s abdomen as she winked. “We could just forget about it.”

 

Beca fixed her with a deadpan glare. “I’m pretty sure there’s a frozen pig pressing against my back, Chlo. Not exactly how I’d imagined this.”

 

“Oh?”

 

Punching her lightly in the shoulder, Beca stood up as Chloe stepped back, refastening her shirt and running her fingers through her hair. “You need to find your chill.”

 

“We’re in a freezer, Beca. I think that’s taken care of.”

 

Beca let out a beleaguered huff before slowly peeling the door open. “Okay, I think we’re clear.” She stepped slowly through the frame, holding it open for Chloe to follow her. As she let it shut, Chloe straightened Beca’s collar, smoothing down the still rumpled shoulders of her shirt before stepping back with an appreciative grin.

 

“Well, as long as we avoid Stacie and her weirdly psychic powers and assumption that everything is somehow sexual, I don’t think anyone will notice,” Chloe said. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t stop the hesitant nerves from crossing her face as she met Beca’s eyes. “So. What do you want to do about this?”

 

 “What do you mean?”

 

“What do you think?” Chloe sighed, chewing the inside of her cheek. “Do we just come straight out and tell them?”

 

Beca shook her head. “I feel like announcing…whatever this is at someone else’s wedding might be a bit tacky, y’know?” As Chloe’s brow creased, she held up a finger. “And yeah, I _do_ want to talk about whatever this is. I’m not running, Chlo.”

 

It was about the best thing Chloe could have heard, and it took all of her limited self-control to hold herself back from grabbing Beca and kissing her right there as one of the chefs walked past. Instead, she settled for sticking her hands in her pockets and letting a goofy smile spread across her face.

 

“Well,” Chloe mused. “I can think of about a thousand other reasons to wait until after the wedding to tell everyone.” Realization slowly dawned on Beca’s face as Chloe’s phone vibrated in her pocket.

 

“We are the only ones in the bet pool left after the wedding, right?” Beca asked, standing on her tiptoes in an attempt to peek at Chloe’s phone.

 

Chloe yanked it back, leaving Beca to fall onto her heels with a humph. “Yeah, it’s just Amy and me. Not that Amy’s even here…”

 

“Please,” Beca said. “You know she’ll have someone spying for her. I think Bumper’s coming, and apparently she’s making Emily carry around an iPad so she can Skype in and be involved or something? I honestly don’t know.”

 

“Hmm. I guess you’re right.” Chloe leaned down until her mouth was right next to Beca’s ear, feeling the smaller girl’s breath hitch against her neck. “It’s just going to be really, _really_ difficult.” She slowly dragged her fingers up Beca’s bare forearm, smirking as Beca shivered.

 

“This is directly _your_ money we’re talking about, Chlo,” Beca murmured, voice tight.

 

Letting out a quiet hum, Chloe looked quickly across the kitchen to her left before nibbling lightly on the edge of Beca’s earlobe. “Yeah, but other things could take priority.” She slid her hand on Beca’s other side onto her hips, drawing her thumb lightly between Beca’s shorts and the skin beneath. Hearing Beca’s head drop back heavily against the metal rack behind them, she pulled back and waited until she held the other girl’s gaze. “But, if you’re sure…”

 

Beca closed her eyes as if all she was focusing on at that moment was breathing and ignoring the horizontal movement of Chloe’s hand. After an agonizing minute, she hesitantly looked up, giving Chloe the best glare she could manage. “Get your hand out of my shorts, Beale.”

 

Chloe giggled, holding her hands up innocently. “I can see your toner through those jeans.” Beca pushed her backwards and rolled her eyes, pulling her phone out of her pocket as she stepped out from between the racks.

 

“Shit.” At Chloe’s inquisitive eyebrow raise, she held up her phone screen. “Three missed calls from Emily and two from Stacie.”

 

“Guess I really am just that good.”

 

“It was on silent,” Beca muttered. “What’s your excuse?”

 

Chloe shrugged. “I’m just really dedicated to my craft.” As Beca grumbled some surely snarky retort under her breath, Chloe returned to her phone, dialing Stacie’s number. “Stace?”

 

“Thank god, I thought you died.” Stacie’s voice was clipped and breathy, barely audible over the din of what sounded like Aubrey’s shouts behind her. “Is everything fine in the kitchen? Do I need to come fix something, because please don’t tell me that. Aubrey is having a meltdown and I’m about ready to lock her in the bathroom to avoid another Pukegate. I still haven’t gotten the image of Lilly’s vomit angel out of my head.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Chloe responded, looking over her shoulder to see that Beca was on her own phone a few feet away. “Everything’s totally fine. We just had an accident with a shattered plate and were helping with the cleanup.”

 

“Okay, great.” Stacie was gone from the phone for a moment, and Chloe could hear her yelling something at Aubrey that sounded something like ‘slow your goddamn roll, Aubs.’ It apparently had its intended effect, as the background noise dropped almost instantly. “Sorry. Can you come to the reception hall? I need your opinion on a color scheme change.”

 

“Again?”

 

“Don’t start with me, Beale,” Stacie said, uncharacteristically threatening in tone. “Are you currently with the tiny idiot?”

 

Chloe’s face turned red, millions of responses firing through her head as Beca hung up the phone and walked back over to her. “Um. Yeah.” The brunette fixed her with a questioning stare as Chloe held up a finger for silence. “Yeah. Do you need her too?”

 

“Not really. I’ll take Beca’s taste in music any day, but I also remember how she dressed before you got your hands on her.” Chloe couldn’t hold in her snort of laughter, attempting to cover it up with a fit of coughing. “But Emily could use a babysitter, because she’s just kind of hovering around right now and while Aubrey’s mellowed since the Bellas, I think there’s only so much she can take of boundless youthful enthusiasm. Try not to choke before you get here?”

 

“See you in a minute, Stace.” Chloe hung up, turning to Beca.

 

“Want to tell me what that was about?”

 

“Your Emily-wrangling services are needed,” Chloe said, grabbing Beca by the elbow and leading her through the kitchen.

 

Beca stumbled slightly as they got out into the hallway, gripping onto the windowsill to catch herself as Chloe stepped back. “When did we decide that I was the best at handling overly enthusiastic people?”

 

“I don’t know, but I can personally attest to your skills at handling me.”

 

Beca groaned, taking a few steps ahead of Chloe before dramatically looking over her shoulder. “You’re killing me, Beale.” Chloe giggled, jogging to follow Beca down the hall.

* * *

For all of her grumbling, Beca was truly happy to see Emily, even as the lanky brunette towered above her and almost crushed her with an overly enthusiastic hug. In typical fashion, Emily had managed to cover all of her news from their three months apart in about five minutes, and Beca could honestly say that she’d only spent two of those watching Chloe from across the room.

 

It had been a split second decision, and one of the most terrifying moments of Beca’s life as she’d pressed Chloe against the door, her lips frozen against Beca’s as the air around them seemed to dissipate. For all of Beca’s bluster and posturing, she didn’t even want to consider how it would have felt if Chloe had stayed still, simply waiting until Beca gave up and stepped back before fixing her with some sort of pitying stare and blurting out a million apologies and explanations.

 

At this point, however, Beca was cursing both her nervous and romantic sides for holding off on making a move because _damn._ She was still slowly working on regaining feeling in all of her extremities, a process that was hindered by the truly dirty looks Chloe was giving her every time she caught Beca staring. So yeah, there’d certainly been a part of her that had wanted to just drag Chloe off into any enclosed space that wasn’t a meat freezer and rip off what she was pretty sure was a front-fastening bra, conveniently. But the inner teenager had lost out to the semi-responsible adult who didn’t want to cause any sort of drama at her friend’s wedding and was also now realizing that she’d have to face her ex-boyfriend with what she was sure was a swiftly developing line of hickeys clearly visible on her neck.

 

Of course, Emily was particularly excited for Jesse’s arrival, or more specifically for the fact that it would bring Benji with it. Despite the distance and the fact that they’d only kissed for the first time on the last day they’d seen each other, Emily and Benji had engaged in a surprisingly adorable long-distance relationship for the past few months, consisting of four-hour Skype sessions and endless texting. Beca figured the best course of action was simply nodding every time that Emily that she’d surely heard about some of this from Jesse. This left the question of whether Jesse hadn’t told Benji (doubtful) or whether Beca now had yet another reason to be thankful that Jesse had picked such a genuinely good guy as his best friend.

 

“But I’m sorry.” Beca was startled out of her musing as Emily’s monologue finally cut off. “I’m just going on and on and I’m working on that, slowing down and controlling my speech and stuff as incoming Captain and all. Not to mention keeping my eyes open. So what’ve you been doing? Have you met Hayley yet? Oh, how’s Chloe?”

 

“Okay, slow down, Em.” Beca placed a hand on Emily’s arm as she paused for a breath. “You do know that you’ll have to stop talking for at least five minutes during auditions, right?” Emily grinned ruefully. “But everything’s good. I’ve actually spent a lot of this summer dicking around with that song of yours.”

 

Her eyes lighting up, Emily actually bounced in her seat as Beca fought back a laugh. “Really? What did you do?”

 

“Nothing much. I mean, it’s nice to have great source material to work with. Keep in musical shape and all.” Beca trailed off as Chloe sauntered her way towards them, her hips swinging in a manner that could really not be at all comfortable.

 

“Em!” The two high-strung nitwits with which Beca associated herself let out simultaneous high-pitched screeches, barreling towards each other so suddenly that Beca barely had time to pull her feet out of Emily’s path. After some nonsensical shrieking and about fifteen hugs, Chloe stepped back, lightly ruffling Emily’s hair. “Sorry it took me so long to get over here. Stace is on a bit of a tear.”

 

Emily shook her head vigorously. “Totally fine,” she said. “Beca and I were just catching up.”

 

“She and Benji are officially a couple now,” Beca added, eyebrows raised as she turned to Chloe.

 

Shoving Beca in the shoulder, Chloe’s smile only grew wider. “You two are adorable. I’m sure he can’t wait to see you. When is he getting here?”

 

“He’s actually in New York City right now, helping Jesse move into his apartment before they come up. I’m not sure when they’ll be done, but…”

 

Beca, who had started picking at her nails at the mention of Jesse’s name, didn’t catch that the questioning lilt at the end of Emily’s statement was directed towards her until Chloe’s elbow lightly dug into her side. “Hey!” Her glare was met by widened blue eyes and a desperately stretched smile that finally kicked her brain into gear. “Oh. Yeah. Um, we talked yesterday. I think they’re getting here early tomorrow? Couldn’t make it in time for the rehearsal dinner.”

 

“You talked yesterday?” Chloe looked almost hurt, and Beca wasn’t sure whether she more wanted to roll her eyes at the complete lack of subtlety or simply just grab her and kiss it away.

 

“Yeah, Chlo,” Beca said, mimicking Chloe’s face from a moment earlier. “I talked to my boyfriend yesterday because he’d be too busy today. Moving in and all.”

 

And thank god it was good-natured, mildly oblivious Emily with them, because Stacie or Amy would’ve pressed Beca and Chloe on whatever nonsense was spilling out of their unprepared mouths until they cracked. Emily simply lifted her eyebrows for a moment before dropping back to that golden retriever grin of hers that Beca swore had only gotten even more absurd since her time around Chloe.

 

After a solid thirty seconds of silence while Beca and Chloe exchanged a mix of urgent glances with each other and nervous smiles with Emily, Beca cleared her throat. “But yeah, tomorrow.” Emily nodded slowly in response. “Sorry, we had a bit of a late night last night.”

 

“I thought the bachelorette party wasn’t until tomorrow?” Emily asked.

 

“It’s not,” Chloe said. “We just went to a little bar near the hotel.”

 

“Did I hear bachelorette party?” Stacie appeared behind them, notably more frazzled-looking than Beca had ever seen her. “Hope you’re not spoiling anything, Chlo.”

 

Chloe clasped a hand over her heart. “Well, I never,” she drawled, winking at Emily’s surprise over the Southern twang. “I’d think you’d have a little more faith in me.”

 

“No offense, Red, but you kind of suck at keeping secrets.” Stacie gave Emily a quick one-armed hug around the shoulders before turning her eyes to Beca’s increasingly reddening face. “Anyways. It’s not like I told you everything. Girl’s gotta save some surprises, you know?”

 

“Speaking of which,” Aubrey said, walking towards them as she held out a clipboard for Stacie. “Where are the brides?”

 

“My bet is on a quickie,” Stacie replied, shrugging at the horrified looks she got from Aubrey and Emily. “What? Have you _seen_ Hayley?” She let out a grunt as Aubrey shoved the clipboard into her chest before peering around the reception hall with her arms crossed.

 

Emily tapped away at her phone quickly before looking back up. “Lilly found them. Apparently they’d gotten locked in the barn or…oh.”

 

Stacie smirked triumphantly. “You’re really gonna question me on my area of expertise?”

 

“You have degrees in biomedical engineering and gender studies,” Aubrey snapped. “I think you know a bit more than just ‘quickies.’”

 

Flippantly waving her hand, Stacie ran her eyes down the clipboard. “Eh, the second one’s related. The first one? There are possibilities.”

 

Aubrey sighed, turning on her heel and storming off to yell at the first florist her eyes landed on. “I’ll go check on her,” Chloe said, nervously grinning at the three remaining before following after her friend.

 

“Wanna tell me what that’s about?”

 

Stacie finally looked back up, fixing Beca with a sardonic stare. “Not really. Besides—“ a painfully meaningful pause “—I’m _sure_ Chloe will tell you later.”

 

Emily looked like a kid who’d walked in on her parents arguing, eyes frantically flitting back and forth between Stacie and Beca as they silently dared each other to make a move. For all of her sexual jokes and general bluster, Stacie on a mission was honestly terrifying, and Beca couldn’t really tell whether this particular fervor was coming more from her determination to make everything in Cynthia Rose’s wedding run smoothly or to be the first to discover ‘Bloe.’ And hell, if crowing over that helped distract everyone from whatever weirdness was going on between her and Aubrey, all the better.

 

“Um.” Emily’s interjection was punctuated with an uncomfortable cough. “Is everything…okay?”

 

Beca’s guard dropped as she shot Stacie a brief apologetic smile. “Sorry, Em. Limited sleep, weddings make people crazy. You know.” Stacie nodded in confirmation, draping her arm around Emily’s shoulders.

 

“We have four Bella captains in the same building. Everyone’s gonna be a bit nuts.”

 

Emily’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Four?” With a wink from Stacie, she broke into a smile. “Oh yeah! Me! Right. Captains. Bellas. I got this.”

 

Chloe called Emily over just as she seemed ready to launch into another babbling speech, ushering her towards Aubrey seemingly in hopes that Emily’s height advantage could save the life of the squadron of florists that the blonde was backing into a corner. Stacie watched this unfolding with an oddly mooning expression that Beca decided to leave alone for now, distracted as Lilly suddenly appeared in the middle of the fray, smiling as if there was nowhere she’d rather be.

* * *

With Emily and Lilly’s help, Chloe had managed to calm Aubrey’s wrath in time to protect the florists. Stacie hovered on the other side of the room, talking to waiters, rearranging tablecloths, and rushing Cynthia Rose and Hayley over to the group when they eventually showed up, looking a bit mussed in a manner that Chloe was sure she and Beca were relatively close to.

 

When Stacie sent Chloe off with Aubrey to stuff gift bags, it was honestly a bit of a reprieve. She couldn’t help how she looked at Beca; to be honest, she’d been bad enough before the freezer incident, but being able to lock her eyes onto the marks she’d left on Beca’s neck just made it all too tempting. So yeah, maybe they were attempting to keep this up both for the sake of Cynthia Rose’s wedding staying relatively drama-free (or as drama-free as it could be with both Stacie and Aubrey operating at truly spectacular levels of insanity), not to mention for Chloe’s monetary benefit, but there was only so long she could be expected to last.

 

Beca’s refusal to use the brief period of time they had back in the hotel for anything other than getting ready for the rehearsal dinner certainly wasn’t helping. There was a certain part of Chloe that was convinced that Beca ‘Low Maintenance/I Can Be Ready in Five Minutes’ Mitchell had just made this rule to mess with her, but there was a fair amount of work to be done in order to cover up hickeys. Not that Chloe didn’t have fun with it as much as she could; she made sure to let her fingers graze across Beca’s neck as she rubbed in the concealer with her thumb, relishing in the shiver that went up the smaller girl’s spine.  

 

Right before they’d headed out the door of their room to meet the rest of the Bellas, including the recently arrived Jessica and Ashley, in the lobby, Beca had stopped, hand on the knob as she chewed her lip while keeping her eyes on the floor. It was honestly adorable, some battle between responsibility and the desire to never leave the room going on right in front of Chloe. She brushed her index finger lightly over the deep furrow between Beca’s brows, sliding her other hand gently under Beca’s jawline before leaning down to press a light kiss against her lips. Okay, so maybe it was a bit more than light, Chloe dragging her teeth over Beca’s bottom lip before opening the door and pushing the mildly stunned brunette out of it ahead of her. Patience was a virtue and all, but Chloe figured that four years of patience eventually added up.

 

The very same patience was being tested as they sat at dinner, Chloe placed between Beca and Aubrey in what she was sure was a very kind gesture of either Stacie or Cynthia Rose to put her near her two best friends. Unfortunately, Aubrey was still on some strange sort of anxious kick from the morning, sitting as close as physically possible to Chloe while shooting burning glares at Stacie on her other side every so often. In response, Chloe had moved closer to Beca, to the point where their bare knees were pressing against each other, hitching Chloe’s breath in her chest and sending thoughts racing through her mind that certainly did not need to be there as Cynthia Rose’s uncle gave some speech about her fifth birthday party. 

 

Chloe took advantage of a moment of collectively raucous laughter to lean towards Beca’s ear, slowly sliding her hand up her thigh. “How are you doing, Becs?”

 

Beca’s lengthy gulp was interrupted by a gasp that was probably a bit too loud as Chloe’s thumb slipped underneath her dress. “Fantastic,” she muttered through gritted teeth. “Just really— _fuck_ —enjoying this steak.”

 

“I’m glad.” Chloe’s mouth was barely an inch away from Beca’s ear, and she could feel Aubrey’s eyes on the back of her head. “I worked really hard on planning the menu. Glad it’s not going to waste.”

 

“Best thing I’ve had all day.” Beca bit down on her lip, digging the heel of her hand into the edge of the table as Chloe’s index finger lazily traced circles between Beca’s thighs. “Are you trying to kill me here?”

 

Chloe shrugged, turning to smile innocently at Cynthia Rose’s confused glance from across the table. “Nope,” she murmured. “I have too many plans for you later to let that happen.”

 

Beca’s plate clattered as Chloe pulled back, dragging her wrist lazily along Beca’s right leg before placing it back on her own knee. She swallowed a yelp as she felt Aubrey’s elbow dig into her side. “What are you doing?” Each word was precise and biting despite the low volume, and Chloe looked over at her assailant as innocently as she could manage.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You and Beca need to stop…. _whispering_ or whatever you’re doing in the middle of speeches.” Aubrey speared a piece of her salad viciously, twirling the fork in front of her eyes before popping the lettuce into her mouth.

 

“We’re not doing anything,” Chloe said, bringing both hands up to rest on the table. At this point, Amy was beginning a speech via the iPad she’d somehow convinced Emily to carry around, propped up between the water glass and plate of the empty place setting she’d forced Stacie to leave. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on with you?”

 

“I wouldn’t know what you’re talking about.” Aubrey viciously dug into her steak, forcing Chloe to bite back a laugh at the simultaneous avoidance of the two dorks next to her.

 

By the time dessert came around, Aubrey was on her third glass of wine, leaning against Chloe’s shoulder. For her part, Chloe had stayed at two, just enough to make every one of Beca’s breaths send shocks across her skin every time she turned to look at Cynthia Rose and Hayley at the head of the table. As Aubrey stuck her finger into the cake on her plate, Chloe shared a nervous glance with Stacie, who maneuvered behind Aubrey’s back, tapping Chloe lightly at the base of her neck. “Everything okay?”

 

Chloe nodded. “Yeah,” she said, brushing Aubrey’s hair back behind her ear. “I think Aubrey’s just a bit…wound up today?”

 

“Fair.” Stacie picked up a napkin, lightly running it across Aubrey’s lips as the blonde giggled. “If she can make it through the next ten minutes or so, I think we can get her back to the hotel without too much of an issue.”

 

Beca leaned over, smirking down at Aubrey, who seemed to have started snoring. “Am I allowed to give her shit about this tomorrow?”

 

The responsive, simultaneous ‘no’ from Stacie and Chloe set her off laughing, and they spent the next twenty minutes shoving each other as the dinner wound down.

* * *

To say that Beca was frustrated as they returned to the hotel would be a bit of an understatement. There was a part of her that wanted to be proud at her self-restraint throughout dinner as Chloe seemed determined to drive her to a previously unreached level of frenzy. Of course, this part was at odds with the side that was wishing they’d never left the freezer.

 

She waited patiently as Chloe and Stacie nearly carried Aubrey through the lobby, the blonde tilting over every few moments to whisper something in Stacie’s ear. For her part, Stacie would simply roll her eyes, hitching Aubrey’s arm up further to stop her seeming determination to face-plant on the hotel carpet. After she’d promised Chloe around a thousand times to make Aubrey drink water, she gave them a quick good night, paired with a wink, before closing the door to her and Aubrey’s room behind her.

 

Beca grabbed Chloe by the wrist the second she heard the door latch, prompting an ‘ooph’ from the redhead as she led them in a mad sprint around the corner. “Becs, I’m not going anywhere,” she laughed, resting her hands on her hips as Beca released her to unlock the door. “Though I do appreciate the enthusiasm.”

 

All of Chloe’s bravado disappeared as Beca pulled her into the room, flinging her arms around her neck and seizing her bottom lip in what was less of a kiss and more of a feverish nip. Chloe moaned, one hand sliding to fiddle with the zipper on Beca’s back as the other repeated its motion from earlier in the evening, pushing the fabric of the dress up her thigh.

 

The dynamic of the situation swiftly shifted as Chloe prodded Beca back against the wall with her hips alone. Beca was fully aware of the endlessly embarrassing moans, interspersed with ‘fucks,’ coming out of her mouth as she felt the dress fall loose on her shoulders while Chloe’s newly freed hand slipped to the inside of her other leg. The combination of the wine from dinner and whatever the hell Chloe was doing with her tongue and teeth against Beca’s neck was making her legs tremble enough that even the oh-so-eager girl pulled back.

 

“Are you okay?” Chloe’s gaze, fervent and eager, flipped between Beca’s lips and eyes, seemingly unable to rest as the shorter girl took a moment to catch her breath.

 

“In most senses of the word,” Beca gasped out. “I could probably use a more solid surface though.”

 

Chloe laughed, guiding Beca back from the wall with her fingertips still against her legs. “Are you saying you want to move to a more horizontal position?”

 

“You’re kind of killing the mood, Chlo.”

 

“And I think we’ve moved past all points of being coy, Becs.” With a shove that was a little less gentle than Beca had expected, Chloe pushed her onto the nearest bed, Beca sliding herself back gracelessly on her elbows as Chloe leaned forwards, one hand on Beca’s side with the other on the bed next to her, cleavage accentuated in a manner that couldn’t be anything but deliberate.

 

As Beca settled her head back on the pillows, Chloe straddled her hips, slowly and agonizingly dragging her fingertips up Beca’s sides. Even through the fabric of her dress, the sensation was enough against Beca’s over-sensitized skin to automatically jerk her body upwards, sending Chloe leaning back with a groan as Beca’s hipbone made contact with the apex of her thighs as she shifted.

 

Chloe’s mouth made its way down the neckline of Beca’s chest, and Beca struggled to find a place to put her hands as every nerve and atom of her being surged to her center. Her grip desperately found its way to Chloe’s hips as the older girl pulled her neck back and slowly rocked against her, every motion fluid and pushing Beca closer to the brink than she could ever remember being while fully clothed.

 

With every muscle she had left, Beca tilted her body up slowly until she could place her lips against Chloe’s dress, the taller girl moaning and moving her hands to Beca’s chest as her movements erratically increased in speed. Beca’s fingers made their way around to grip Chloe’s ass, mimicking a move that had worked wonders in the morning, just as a knock sounded at the door.

 

“Beca?” She really tried her best to pretend that she didn’t recognize the voice. At this point, it wouldn’t have been too far of a stretch to claim that Beca had forgotten her own name, everything spent on stopping her heart from just giving out right there. Unfortunately, the second knock was undeniable, and Chloe’s hands drew back at the sound of her own voice.

 

As Chloe moved to swing her hips off, Beca responded by establishing a tight grip on Chloe’s hips. “I think you’re imagining things.”

 

“And I think you’re full of shit,” Chloe whispered back, pressing her lips against Beca’s in that way that was strangely full of both teenage nerves and that hot, endless desire that was snaking its way through Beca’s core, leaving her almost dazed. Chloe took the opportunity to shimmy her way out of Beca’s grasp, sliding her dress down as she made her way to the door.

 

Beca had just fixed her own as Emily walked into the room. “Hey, Em, everything okay?”

 

“Um, I guess?” Emily shifted nervously from one leg to the other, arms crossed over her body. “So it turns out Lilly wasn’t kidding about the whole sleeping upside down like a bat thing and I’m not sure how she’s doing it and I’m not sure I want to know but it’s really freaking me out. And Stacie didn’t answer her door so um…is there any chance I could sleep in your room?”

 

Chloe had already started nodding before Beca could open her mouth. Not that Beca would have said anything different; they’d both become fully aware of Lilly’s particular oddities over the last four years, and, on top of this, it was Emily. “Of course,” Chloe said, pulling Emily into a one-armed hug.

 

“Thank you so much. I’ll just sleep on the floor, so don’t worry about me or anything.”

 

“That’s ridiculous.” Both Beca’s and Emily’s eyes snapped over to Chloe, who simply turned to Beca with the most shit-eating grin she’d ever seen. “Becs and I can sleep in the same bed. Totes not a problem.”

 

“Totes,” Beca echoed, running her fingers through her mussed hair.

 

Emily opened her mouth to protest, only to be shushed by Chloe before she grabbed her sleep shirt and flounced into the bathroom, leaving Emily and Beca behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so yeah, this chapter was like 2/3 Chloe and Beca making out and 1/3 Chloe and Beca wanting to make out. WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT? It was also as long/even longer than the last one and I literally have no clue how. I’m also really sorry for all the perspective changes and just everything in general. I HAVE NEVER CLAIMED TO BE ANYTHING BUT A NERD WITH MANY FEELINGS AND OKAY SYNTAX. Expect next chapter to have about 100% more plot development…I think. Regardless, come yell at me at bicamitchell on Tumblr, and somebody save me a s’more. 
> 
> P.S. Is anyone else experiencing death by Staubrey or is that just me?


	6. Clarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Immature idiots almost get even more immature. People end up crying. Who knows if it’s good or bad?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I’m running into this issue where I’m starting chapters with like the most zero chill scene possible. This was originally supposed to go into chapter five, but I’d already hit 6K words and I didn’t want it to get absurd. Whatever. So after a chapter of pure nonsense, I’m gonna do my best to maybe have things happen here, if we’re all okay with that?

For all of the thoughts that had been running through her head about ten minutes ago, Beca was almost embarrassed to be sharing a bed with Chloe while Emily was in the room. Yeah, it was completely irrational, because she’d expected to be wearing significantly less clothing at this point in time and to have noise concerns beyond whether she could fall asleep with Emily snoring, but she didn’t have too much reason left in her after the day’s events.

 

Chloe had gone to brush her teeth and get ready for bed first, coming out of the bathroom with her hair piled on her head and still looking unfairly gorgeous, sculpted legs stretching out from underneath her oversized sleep shirt. After a good five minutes of splashing cold water on her face, Beca still had a steady pounding in her ears and this painfully desperate inability to stay in one place for more than a second, but she could only take so long before even Emily would get suspicious.

 

And so she lay in bed about ten minutes later, body as close to the edge as she could manage without falling off, eyes wide open as she examined the beige of the wall in an attempt to slow her mind’s ceaseless racing. To this point, Chloe had remained on the other side, her breathing already slow and calmed in a way that almost offended Beca and her efforts from twenty minutes previous. Emily had shifted back and forth for a few minutes, the springs of the other bed squeaking until light snores filled the room.

 

Beca felt her own bed shifting, closing her eyes and exhaling deeply as she felt Chloe’s chest press against her back. As she had so many times before, Chloe fit her chin into the space between Beca’s shoulder and the side of her face, slipping one arm around Beca’s waist. This time, however, the fingers of that hand slid their way underneath the fabric of Beca’s tank top, landing on the curve between Beca’s hip bones and her abdomen.

 

She bit her lip to hold back the moan that threatened to surge up from her throat as Chloe’s nose tickled the edge of her ear. “Having trouble sleeping?” Beca slowly inclined her head in response as Chloe’s fingers crawled towards her navel. “Wish I could help you out with that.”

 

“You’re the one who wanted to let her in,” Beca whispered back.

 

They both froze at the high gasp that escaped from Beca’s lips as Chloe shifted to nip at the sensitive skin right below her ear, waiting for any response from Emily. The snores continued uninterrupted, and Chloe’s breath fell hot against Beca’s neck. “It would have been too suspicious otherwise,” Chloe purred. “And you were so concerned about keeping things quiet.”

 

“Quiet might not be in my capability if you keep this up.” Beca knew how desperate it sounded, and she felt Chloe’s shoulders shudder with a laugh as her thumb made contact with the bottom of Beca’s rib cage.

 

“I think it’s hot,” Chloe said, slightly sliding her body down Beca’s before brushing her lips against the joining of Beca’s neck and shoulder. “I mean, I’ve never been one to hold things back.”

 

Beca rolled against Chloe as the taller girl placed a long kiss at the top of her spine, sending fire racing from her neck to her core. Chloe’s body jerked slightly, digging her nails into Beca’s stomach before she ran a line of kisses along Beca’s shoulder, nudging the strap of her shirt aside with her nose. “You seem to be doing remarkably well right now,” Beca muttered, hearing her own frustration in an uncharacteristically whining lilt.

 

Chloe’s lips lifted from Beca’s skin, feeling like a void in contrast to the sparks smothering her everywhere else. “I never said it was easy.” Her right hand traced the skin right below the underside of Beca’s breast, agonizing arousal twisting its way through Beca’s stomach.

 

Beca turned over, placing their noses against each other in an alarmingly similar situation to when Chloe had brought up ‘experimenting’ at the Bella retreat. Unable to move in time, Chloe’s left hand was trapped underneath Beca’s body, her right hand coming to rest on Beca’s hip. Beca licked her lips slowly, dragging her gaze from Chloe’s lips to her eyes, which followed the path of Beca’s own, lidded and heavy under absurdly long lashes.

 

“You should probably watch out,” Beca said, running her free left hand up from Chloe’s knee to the bottom of her shirt, relishing the hitch in the other girl’s breath. “I might just have to put your abilities to the test. See who winds up on top.”

 

Chloe snorted, closing her eyes as Beca pushed up her shirt while bringing their lips as impossibly close as they could be without actually touching. “As if there’s any question of that.” Before Beca could open her mouth to argue, she’d closed the space, seizing Beca’s bottom lip between her own before pulling back and slipping her tongue in between the space created as Beca groaned.

 

There was this part of Beca that hoped that Emily would give some indication that she was awake, force her to pull back and stop that pure, exhilarating need racing through her bloodstream from ruling every action. She dug her fingers into Chloe’s back, swallowing the sigh this action prompted before lifting her body slightly to allow Chloe’s arm currently underneath her to snake down her back, fingers falling along the band of Beca’s shorts.

 

And a moment later, Chloe was on top of her again, sheets and comforter hanging precariously off the back of her shoulders, hands locked onto Beca’s hair as Beca’s hands twisted the fabric of her shirt, not trusting herself to venture any farther below. Beca experimented by lightly nipping at the skin over Chloe’s collarbone and was rewarded with a fervent keen as fingers tightened against Beca’s scalp in a manner that might’ve been painful if Beca could really give a fuck at this point in time. Every feeling was Chloe, every pang, bliss, or yearning, and that was all she could ever imagine needing.

 

Chloe’s left hand moved to outline the curve of Beca’s jaw, a maddening mix of pressure from her thumb and feather-light caresses from the fingers against her neck. Beca let loose the edges of Chloe’s shirt, hands clasping behind the other girl’s neck to drag her down into a kiss with admittedly too much teeth that still ripped holes through Beca, shattering her in places that she couldn’t imagine as she grasped at Chloe in some strange attempt to somehow gather herself back or fill what she lost by letting Chloe fill the spaces.

 

When Beca shifted underneath Chloe and tugged at her bottom lip with her teeth before running her tongue lightly over the same spot, Chloe let out a whine so full of insatiable, feverish craving that something in Beca snapped. She’d never used the term ‘lust’ before, seeing it as a phrase saved more for female protagonists in shitty fifty-cent romance novels as they beheld their billowing shirted pirate lovers from across the moor, but this agonizing impulsiveness and piercing want was new to her and couldn’t be placed as anything else.

 

The nerves and awkwardness that normally kept Beca’s life in order were gone as her hands fell to Chloe’s hips, dragging up the shirt until her hands fell on the tiny spandex shorts that Chloe was sleeping in, eager fingers moving below the spandex waistband. She heard Chloe swallow heavily before she pressed against Beca’s shoulders, the nearly imperceptible rocking of her hips slowing as she leaned down with her mouth to Beca’s ear.

 

“Beca, I—“ She paused to breathe deeply for a moment, fighting broken words as the fingers of her right hand gripped at Beca’s shoulder.

 

Beca nudged Chloe’s head up with her own, staring deep into deeply darkened eyes, somehow both vulnerable and hungry. “I’m sorry,” Beca murmured, pulling her hands out from beneath Chloe’s shorts and sliding her shirt back down. “I don’t want to push you or do anything you don’t want or—“

 

“—Please.” It was almost more of a laugh, and Chloe brushed Beca’s hair back from her dampened forehead. “You have no idea how much I…really, just trust me. This just isn’t...” She shook her head lightly, and Beca swore she could almost make out tears pooling up in Chloe’s eyes as she bit her lip before looking over at Emily’s still form.

 

“Yeah, I get it,” Beca said. When Chloe’s eyebrows raise slowly, Beca jerked her head over at Emily. “Seems kind of weird, Emily here and all?”

 

“I mean, I guess.” Chloe leaned back, weight resting on Beca’s upper thighs. “But that’s not really what I meant.” She sighed, running her thumb over Beca’s lips as her eyes roamed across her face. “Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

 

Beca nodded, taking in the worry creasing Chloe’s brow and brushing her hand up svelte thighs in the most concerned manner she could manage. “Yeah, of course.”

 

Chloe placed a kiss lightly on Beca’s forehead before swinging her legs off Beca’s body and rolling to face her. Beca rolled until her back was once again against Chloe’s front, the other girl’s arm slipping around her waist, thumb rubbing slow circles against Beca’s shirt until she fell asleep.

* * *

 

Chloe woke up with dark hair tickling the end of her nose, and she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face as she slowly opened her eyes. Yeah, she’d woken up in the same bed as Beca before, even spooning her, but there was something about this that just felt so perfectly real. It was no longer characterized by Chloe lying there and praying that Beca didn’t wake up so she could live just for a few moments longer in her fantasy world before rolling back at Beca’s first stirring. Instead of being surrounded by denial and aching hope, it was some sort of shared warmth rather than everything Chloe could never say simply trying to embrace and protect Beca in the only way she could.

 

The problem with waking up was that your subconscious gave way to all the concerns and thoughts from that you’d managed to put away while you slept. And so while past Chloe would have laid absolutely still, barely daring to breathe, this Chloe slid her arm out from underneath Beca, who shifted her shoulders and grumbled as the bed swayed beneath her. Placing a kiss lightly on the curve of Beca’s ear, Chloe grabbed the first set of workout clothes she could find from her bag, ignoring her natural compulsion to color coordinate the outfit, before slipping into the bathroom.

 

Despite the fact that she’d been cheerleading captain in high school from sophomore year onwards (the groan that this had elicited from Beca upon discovery had been one of Chloe’s favorites of all time), Chloe had always preferred the winter and spring track seasons. She loved people, and it wasn’t as if she enjoyed disappearing for ten-mile runs because she wanted to avoid them, but there was this certain point after about the four-mile mark that she’d hit prime clarity. So maybe she’d failed Russian Lit a couple times, but Chloe’s mind was quick and constantly racing. Running eliminated or calmed all of the other distractions around her, and damn if she didn’t need a bit of peace and quiet right now.

 

For all of her attempts to seem like a carefree, rebellious badass, Beca Mitchell had a bit of a neurotic side to her. Yes, she was late to everything and she couldn’t really have cared less about most of the minute decisions in the Bella costuming and precise choreography, but the times where she freaked and her inner Aubrey Posen shone through reminded Chloe that Beca was, at her core, a control freak.

 

Seeing her losing control the night before, letting herself go and just acting with abandon, had terrified Chloe in the best way possible, suffocating her and surrounding her with nothing but Beca. Chloe knew that she had walls, and maybe her defenses tended more towards ubiquitous, harmless flirtation than Beca’s, but in the same way that she’d worked her way into Beca’s bubble, the tiny, oblivious brunette had cracked Chloe’s walls and filled all that was there in between.

 

Chloe hit the top of the hill she’d been climbing and was rewarded with a view over the tree line, all clear sky and majestic mountains and almost suspiciously placed birds that looked like they’d been pulled from a postcard. She dropped onto a patch of grass, the not yet evaporated dew wetting the bottoms of her shoes as she tucked her knees up under her chin.  

 

The problem with Beca was that not even she seemed to know what she was thinking at most times. Chloe was better at interpreting the grunts and shrugs and general nonverbal ticks that characterized Beca’s attempts at communication with the world, but she had managed to completely miss Beca’s internship for the better part of a year. At this point, she didn’t trust her perception as much anymore.

 

Unfortunately, the more relevant concern was how Beca would interpret everything that had happened. She had this incredible ability to assume that everything was her fault and horrible and unable to be fixed except by other particularly skilled individuals, AKA Chloe. Chloe had taken a couple psych classes throughout her seven years, and while she could attribute this to parental abandonment issues or the particular problems that surrounded those who had been especially high achievers as kids, but that wasn’t helping with the sinking feeling in Chloe’s stomach regarding how Beca would see the events of the previous night.

 

The fact that they weren’t exactly alone in the room could have been enough reason for Chloe pulling back, but it was neither how Chloe guessed Beca was interpreting it nor the main cause. Beca would probably wake up in about half an hour, because Emily could only lie there in silence for so long and Chloe knew that she was particularly susceptible to the sun. It pulled at her stomach to imagine the look on Beca’s face as she woke up without Chloe pressing against her back, tickling her stomach or poking her in the side and laughing at Beca’s best attempts at revenge.

 

Of course Beca’s natural inclination was to jump to an assumption of regret, despite everything else pointing to the contrary. So it could’ve been a bit selfish of Chloe to assume that Emily’s endlessly distracting presence could buy her some time with Beca while she sorted her own completely scrambled mind out, but it wouldn’t help anyone if Chloe couldn’t explain everything perfectly.

 

Her first impulse was to find the perfect song and show up outside of their hotel window with a boom-box, a la ‘Say Anything,’ but the logistics of figuring that all out were a bit intimidating, and Chloe had this feeling that a classic 80’s movie reference would not be the best way to explain everything she felt to Beca, of all people. The easiest option, of course, would be to finally get that alone time that they’d been shooting for and hope that the right words came out in the heat of the moment, but that seemed both unlikely to work out (as Chloe in bed did not tend to have much in verbal capacities beyond moans and the occasional curse) and to completely cheapen where they were and where she needed to be.

 

Chloe couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when she’d fallen in love with Beca. The physical attraction had been there from pretty much the beginning, and you certainly couldn’t be someone who found women attractive and not get there after you saw Beca Mitchell naked. In truth, all of the flirty touching and winks and everything had really been spurred by Beca’s continuous attempts to scurry behind her walls and hide. It was more driven by the challenge than anything else, though every pushback had cut Chloe deeper than she could ever recall.

 

So maybe it had been subconscious avoidance on Chloe’s part in an attempt to avoid being genuinely hurt. Somehow, she looked past the way that her throat tightened every time Beca touched her shoulder to get her to move out of the way at rehearsal, past the way that her stomach jumped when Beca laughed, whether it was that low, quiet chuckle that felt like a secret or the drunken, raucous cackle that she might have found grating if it came from any other source.

 

But she knew precisely when she’d realized she was in love. No matter how hard you try, it’s kind of hard to ignore crying for four hours and spiraling for months after seeing the person who you’ve strangely come to care about almost more than you thought was possible kiss someone else. And Chloe had felt jealousy, admittedly rarely, but this new. This was what she’d been trying to avoid, all the work gone to waste.

 

And so she’d chosen to accept it with that confidence and nonchalance born from inevitability that had always astounded Aubrey. In truth, Chloe realized that she was too far gone to fight back, and decided to be there for Beca as much as she could until Beca was ready to love Chloe even remotely in the same way that Chloe loved her. As Chloe saw it, it’d made her stronger, and the best relationships were almost always born from strong friendships, so patience, time, and even love of a purely platonic variety would help in the long run.

 

These years of waiting had given Chloe such unbelievable expectations for what she thought was an increasingly unlikely _if_ Beca had ever felt the same, and, to be honest, she didn’t imagine their first time while sharing a room with the girl who had essentially become their adopted child. It was strange, because Chloe had always kind of separated romance and sex; come to think of it, that could be because it was challenging to have sexual relationships with anyone when you were in love with a wholly unobtainable someone else. Regardless, the two were unbreakably intertwined when it came to Beca, and so Chloe had fought every bone in her body the night before, even as those surely dexterous DJ hands had made it damn challenging.

 

Beca’s assurance that she wanted to talk about what was between them had only solidified her determination. Yeah, sex was great; it was pretty fucking awesome (even ignoring the pun), but the idea of being able to spend even a day of her life with Beca Mitchell as hers was really worth any wait.

 

Of course, Stacie’s statement about Beca never lasting in a long-distance relationship was still valid. The largest demonstrable effect that Beca’s parents’ divorce had had on her was turning her into a realist about the longevity of relationships. It was that need to have Beca in her life that, regardless of in what capacity, had kept Chloe from opening that email, the latest form of her attempts to exist in a reality that still had the possibility of Beca.  

 

Maybe applying to UCLA and UCLA alone had been a bit reckless, but Chloe had just failed a class in a language that she spoke fluently for three years, so reckless wasn’t necessarily off the table in her decision-making. She had a pair of endlessly supportive parents who seemed to believe she could do no wrong, and honestly, exotic dancing wasn’t too bad a fallback.

 

Chloe took a deep breath, pausing the old school Spice Girls currently pumping through her headphones and pulling her phone out of her armband. She’d made it through nationals and worlds with barely a shiver, even if having Beca there had certainly helped, but now she could barely get her thumbs to stay long enough to unlock the screen. And of course Beca’s face greeted her there, smiling up from the cropped graduation photo she’d had as her home screen for the last few months and serving as the painful reminder it always did.

 

She found herself emulating Beca’s panic from a few days back as the limited cell service seemed to partner with the Gmail app’s notoriously spotty functioning to load arduously slowly, Chloe’s left hand falling to rip out handfuls of grass while tapping at the screen with the thumb of the other. She’d just started absentmindedly braiding a few strands together when the message finally loaded.

 

It wasn’t really a blackout; more like a momentary, very purposeful loss of conscious in order to delay reality. In the end, hands shaking and sweat dripping down her back, Chloe Beale was accepted as a UCLA grad student.

 

The back of her head landed heavily on the grass behind her, fingers releasing her phone as some combination of a whoop and a sob escaped from her mouth. And yeah, she rolled in the grass for longer than she’d care to ever admit, all sorts of nervous planning and perfect moments briefly forgotten. Yeah, it was pure hope again, but hey, she’d never clamed to be the realist in the relationship.

* * *

 

Beca had really done all she could to pay attention to Emily. While Chloe was probably correct most of the time about Beca being an absurdly deep sleeper, as she seemed to be correct about most things regarding Beca in general, being in the same room as an over-excited nineteen-year-old who had been trying her best to stay quiet for the last twenty minutes seemed to do the trick. Emily had been tossing and turning, readjusting pillows to, as she put it, ‘look for the cool side.’ The final nail in the coffin had come when, on the way to the bathroom she tripped over one of Chloe’s many pairs of shoes that she’d somehow managed to spread across the room after being here for all of two nights.

 

The kid had apologized profusely, looking almost close to tears as Beca peered out at her through eyes heavy with sleep. Wiping the always present post-sleeping line of drool off the side of her mouth (so maybe there were some benefits to Chloe not being there), she’d pushed herself up on one hand, waving the other in the general direction of the bathroom until Emily scurried off. Even before she turned around to look, she could tell by the distribution of weight in the bed that she was the only one in there.

 

Maybe it was a bit cliché to say that her stomach had dropped, but it felt like every single vital organ had descended in her body by a good three feet. The only proof that any of the truly surreal events of the previous day had happened was a strand of red hair on the pillow on the other side of the bed. Beca picked it up slowly, rolling it between her fingers as if to convince herself that she hadn’t just given in to some wild fantasy. Even as Emily’s electric toothbrush whirred from the bathroom (because of course Emily Junk had a damn electric toothbrush with four different types of heads that she switched out for every brushing session), Beca was thankful that she had always been a quiet crier.

 

When the whirring had stopped, she’d run her thumbs under both of her eyes, sniffling gently as that pounding in her ears cloaked and threatened to crush her. Beca had gotten so good over the years at either ignoring her emotions or compartmentalizing them to deal with them later, most often in the form of some sort of music, but, as she was realizing was painfully and increasingly true, Beca’s rules didn’t apply around Chloe. And, in reality, maybe Chloe had always been part of the ‘deal with them later’ section of the process.

 

Beca knew that she jumped to doubt and concern more quickly than she probably should, but there was only so far that recognizing a feeling or action as irrational could take her. And so she sat on the bed, legs crossed with the hair lying in the space between them as she continuously threaded and separated her interlocked fingers. Emily was pushed up by her arms on the edge of the other bed, eyes darting around the room as if she sensed Beca’s discomfort, and had just launched into a nearly unbelievable story of her mother and the old school Bellas when Beca heard the door open behind her.

 

Cool, alternative Beca Mitchell of the constant scowl had no place in the Beca who literally jumped around, face automatically breaking into a beaming grin just at the sight of Chloe. She was uncharacteristically flushed, always coming back from absurdly long runs looking as if she’d just gone for a brief stroll around the mall, nary a hair or sometimes even her makeup out of place. Beca could also make out a few strands of grass snaking through the red locks, tiny pieces sticking to the edge of her hairline.

 

Chloe gave them both a quick wave before ducking into the bathroom, the sound of running water from the sink coming through the door. “So what’ve you two been up to?” It was light and lilting, filled with that energy that she seemed to always unfairly get after running, that mythical ‘endorphin high’ that took her beyond even her natural state of bubbliness.

 

“Just talking about my mom,” Emily replied. “One time, on hood night, she invented this weird pitch-matching drinking game that I don’t even really understand. Or want to understand. I don’t know.”

 

The sound from the sink stopped, and Chloe walked back into the main room, running a finger across her brow delicately to wick off the remaining water. “Oh yeah, Bree’s told me some really crazy stuff that the OG Bellas used to get up to.”

 

“OG?” Eyebrow still raised, Beca yelped at Chloe’s light shove against her shoulder and shifted along the bed to allow her to sit. And Beca really did try her best to not look over at Chloe, to stop the concern that she knew was splashed across her face from becoming evident, but she met those blue eyes, framed by traces of eyeliner left over from the night before. Chloe roamed over every inch of her, concern widening her eyes. She returned to Beca’s, a small, almost nervous smile breaking her lips before her right hand fell to the base of Beca’s neck.

 

It was the way she’d always calmed Beca down, palm lying on Beca’s spine while her fingers gently rested on the curve of Beca’s neck, thumb slowly rubbing back and forth across her skin. Despite all of Chloe’s lascivious winks and flirtatious remarks, this gesture had never carried an ounce of sexual energy, nothing but care and worry that numbed whatever was hurting Beca, spreading warmth and safety that drowned everything else out. As Emily continued rambling on about C#’s and shot roulette, Beca leaned into Chloe’s shoulder with a slight sigh, the taller girl’s chin curving into the top of Beca’s head.

 

“And then strip poker somehow came in? I’m not really sure about that one, but—“ Emily cut off as her phone began to vibrate on the bedside table. “Hello? Oh, hey Stacie. Yeah. No, I’m in Beca and Chloe’s room. What?” Her brow furrowed as her eyes moved up to look at them. “No, I did not. No. Uh huh? Okay. Okay. Yeah. Uh huh. I will be right there.”

 

She stood up, slipping the phone into the back pocket of her pajama pants. “Stacie needs me,” Emily said slowly.

 

“Is something wrong?” Chloe sat up slightly, hand on Beca’s body, but still making her curse the loss of any contact.

 

Emily shook her head as she made her way between the beds. “Nope. Nope nope. I had just helped her with something earlier and it’s a bit complicated and she assumed you just went running and would be ‘damn disgusting.’” At Chloe’s pout, she smiled nervously. “Her words, not mine.”

 

“Well, okay then,” Chloe said. “Did she give you any idea of timing for the rest of us?”

 

“She said she’d call you guys, but you had like a good hour to shower or…anything.” She shrugged. “It’s Stacie, I don’t know.”

 

“Text me to make sure that everything’s all right with Lilly when you get back to your room, okay?” Emily nodded vigorously, grinning at Beca’s errant wave before shuffling out of the room.

 

Beca didn’t really know how long they stayed like that, Chloe’s cheek falling back onto her head as Beca’s hands remained knotted into each other on top of her legs. Their breathing was synchronized, low and long, the only sound in the room beyond a slight drip from the sink that Chloe had apparently failed to turn off completely. Eventually, Beca felt Chloe’s head lifting from her own, her free left hand making its way onto Beca’s wrist.

 

“Hey.” It was barely over a whisper, punctuated with a light wrist squeeze as Beca pulled back to look at her. She’d seen that earnest, anxious look before in Chloe’s eyes, always laced with that selfless assurance that she genuinely wanted to hear about whatever the other party was thinking. This time, though, there was something else, golden and gleaming and radiant, some sort of vibrant lens over Chloe’s eyes as if she could no longer contain a light shining through.

 

“Hey.” Beca’s own voice was low as she brought her thumb up to run along Chloe’s. “Did you have a good run?”

 

Chloe nodded slowly, biting her lip. “Yeah,” she replied. A brief pause. “Sorry I didn’t tell you where I went.”

 

Beca performed her best approximation of a nonchalant shrug. “I probably would have killed you if you’d woken me up anyways.”

 

A slight snort of laughter before Chloe dropped her eyes for a moment, allowing Beca to look towards the window at the sun shining through the blinds. “About last night.”

 

“Yeah,” Beca sighed. “I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t thinking and I lost control and I just turned into some sort of teenage horndog. And I don’t want to push you into anything or have any regrets and…” She felt Chloe’s hand lift from her wrist, and she swallowed back the tears threatening to rise. “I just…it’s new and I don’t know what I’m doing here or what you want or—“

 

And the free hand cupped her chin, tilting her head up to meet blazing eyes. “Beca. If you really think I didn’t want that, then you’re even more oblivious than I thought.” Chloe’s fingers delicately traced her jawline. “I want to be with you, really more than you know or I could make you know. I just…I don’t want it to be only that.”

 

Chloe sighed, shaking her head slowly as her brow furrowed. “Hey. Chlo.” She met Beca’s eyes as the younger girl placed her hand on her thigh. “I don’t either. I mean, like, I want that. I really do, trust me. I just don’t…um.” Beca licked her lips, cursing every useless neuron that refused to work in her brain. “I want to figure this out. Us. Out.”

 

And she’d never seen anything more stunning than Chloe Beale’s smile there, making her ignore every stunted word that had fallen out of her mouth and erasing every fear that had twisted inside her since she’d woken up. “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” Beca said, tilting her head up to place a feather-light kiss on Chloe’s lips. “Think you’d be up for that?”

 

Chloe’s lips met her own again, holding and tugging for a moment before they rested with their foreheads together, every exhale gracing each other’s lips. “I think I would.”

 

Beca moved her hands to rest around both of Chloe’s wrists before she sat back. “I kind of suck at this whole dating thing,” she began. “But, uh, maybe that won’t get in the way as much since it’s not gonna be exactly traditional?” Chloe smirked. “Oh shut up. Not that. I mean, like long distance and all.”

 

The redhead licked her lips, closing her eyes and nodding slowly as her mouth twitched as if she was fighting something back. “Well, maybe not.”

 

“What aren’t you saying, Beale?”

 

She turned one of Beca’s wrists over, tracing the lines of her palm with her index finger as she had so many times. “I mean, unless your plans have changed regarding where you’re working, we’re kind of going to be in the same city.”

 

For the umpteenth time in the past few days. Beca was sure she was hallucinating. “Want to repeat that?”

 

“I applied to UCLA. Masters in Music Education.” It was slow, almost trembling, and completely adorable. “I didn’t want to say anything until…”

 

“…until?”

 

“I got in, Becs.” That same pride, or maybe even something more, that Beca had seen on Chloe’s face after each nationals title broke free, past any attempts to restrain it. Chloe’s eyes sparkled with tears, and Beca’s thumb came up to rest under her eye, slowly wiping them away. “I got in.”

 

The air left the room, and Beca pressed her lips to Chloe’s in a desperate attempt to fill her lungs. As always, Chloe saved her, hands rising to draw Beca in and keep her safe and close. All those fears, all that concern at being alone in a notoriously tricky city, just about everything went away. Chloe would be there with her, and Beca couldn’t be alone as long as that was true.

 

Her top lip still on Chloe’s, Beca felt her mouth quavering as a tear that could have been hers or Chloe’s traveled down her cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

Chloe laughed, pulling back as she tucked a piece of hair behind Beca’s ear. “I didn’t want to put any pressure on you.”

 

Beca grabbed a pillow and smacked her lightly on the side of the face. “Rude. Completely different situations.”

 

“Uh huh.” Chloe’s eyes flicked over to the alarm clock on the bedside table. “So. Now that we’ve had this conversation and all, want to save time by sharing a shower?”

 

“You really think that would end up saving time?”

 

Chloe cocked her head to one side, face scrunching as if she was thinking deeply. “I mean, I guess you’re right.” She ran her thumb across Beca’s lips before standing up and grabbing her towel. “Ideally—“ And she waited until she held Beca’s gaze. “—I’ll take my time and you're going to have to beg before it’s over.” She was gone with a wink as Beca nearly passed out against the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a bit shorter, and I’m sorry. IT CAN’T ALL HAVE THREE MAKEOUT SCENES, OKAY? If anyone feels like actually coming up with rules for this pitch-matching/shot roulette drinking game, let me know. I think it’d be aca-awesome. Anyways, our good friend plot is allowed to share space with his hotter and sweeter cousins smut and fluff next chapter. Also, if anyone’s noticed, I’ve set a chapter limit at this point. The number is not set in stone, and I could see this being anywhere between ten and twelve chapters ultimately, dependent on what I feel is appropriate. As always, I’m over on tumblr as bicamitchell. Come give me a holler.


	7. Flaws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic dumbs, awkwardly adorable aca-children, and brooding Best Women.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. I apologize for the delay in getting this out, but a) I’ve been crazy busy, and b) I kind of didn’t want to write it and I’m just mature that way. So I’m sorry if it sucks, but like plot is a thing sometimes and there’s theoretically one within this fic? Maybe? Who knows? I don’t.

So Beca had probably been right about showering separately, because Chloe had a strong inclination towards recreating that first shower experience they’d had, except this time with much more privacy and Chloe actually acting on the desire she’d had to pin Beca against the wall with her lips. Instead, she settled for belting out ‘Titanium’ alone, smirking as she imagined the over-dramatic eye roll surely coming from Beca in the adjacent room.

 

And maybe she purposefully dropped one side of the towel folded around her body as Beca walked past her to the bathroom, widening her eyes innocently and adding an ‘oops’ yet again reminiscent of that first day. Beca stood stunned for a moment, jaw falling open while her eyes darted between Chloe’s lips and chest, seemingly torn between dashing off into the bathroom and ripping off the rest of the towel and letting all wedding party duties for the day be damned. Unfortunately for the coiling in Chloe’s stomach, Beca’s loyalty to Cynthia Rose and the self control that she managed to summon once in a blue moon won out. She let her eyes slowly roam up Chloe’s body until they met bright blue ones daring her to make a move, dragged her bottom lip between her teeth, and ran a finger across Chloe’s collarbone before ruining whatever façade she’d been trying to put up by tripping over her own feet as she attempted to swagger to the bathroom.

 

Chloe doubled over with laughter as Beca had let out a quiet, “fuck me” before grabbing the shirt she’d dropped and stomping off, pausing only to flip Chloe off at her responsive, “I’m trying.” She’d never personally experienced any of the Beca Mitchell seduction game before, though she did make a note to herself to reanalyze many of those interactions she’d previously written off as her reading too much into it all, but if it was going to be anything like this, Chloe was all for it. There was something about Beca’s easily flustered nature, inability to filter herself, and complete ignorance of how truly gorgeous she was that, combined with her attempts to establish street cred and prove just how much of a badass she was, made Chloe love her more than she’d ever realized was possible.

 

The call came from Stacie just as Beca was stepping out of the bathroom, combing her wet hair back with long fingers that always sent Chloe’s mind to dangerous places. When Chloe held up a hand to silence her as she opened her mouth, her brow furrowed inquisitively and she dropped on the bed opposite the redhead as she answered her phone. “Stace?”

 

“Okay, so if you don’t say yes to this question, I might actually have to flee the country or at least avoid the corporate world for fear of my boss sending me to Aubrey’s retreat.” Stacie’s voice was hushed and low, stress coming through clearly even as Chloe struggled to make out her words. “Do you have the seating charts? I know we looked at them yesterday and I had them at the rehearsal dinner but obviously things got a bit hectic afterwards and I—“

 

“—Stace.” Chloe heard a heavy exhale across the line. “Relax. I have them.”

 

“Oh thank god,” Stacie groaned. “I’m dealing with hungover Aubrey—I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of especially pleasant experiences there—and it turns out that hungover Aubrey is even more anal than normal Aubrey. I think she feeds on excessive order to recover or something. There’s only so much even _I_ can put up with before saying something.”

 

No matter how much Chloe wanted to press Stacie about that particular sentence, she knew that tormenting her friend as essentially the wedding planner the day before the event was probably not the best plan. “Yeah, I’ve been there. I can get them to you in a minute. Becs just got out of the shower.”

 

“And you?”

 

“ _Stacie._ ”

 

“Hey, you’re the one who told us about her impromptu audition,” Stacie chuckled. “Thought you might’ve been feeling particularly bulletproof.”

 

“I can hang up, you know,” Chloe said. Beca had lost interest in the conversation relatively quickly, and was currently busying herself on her laptop, tapping out a rhythm on the comforter of her bed with those always restless hands. As if she’d felt Chloe’s eyes on her, she turned slowly, her frown giving way to an almost shy smile before she carefully placed her laptop on her bed and sat down to lean against Chloe on her own.

 

She completely missed Stacie’s response as Beca’s fingers lightly ran up the underside of her forearm, her thumb tapping out that same unidentifiable beat from earlier on Chloe’s ladybug tattoo. “Chloe? Did I lose you there or are you feeling the aftereffects of the wine a bit too much too?”

 

Chloe cleared her throat. “Sorry, sorry.” She pointed frantically at her bag from the night before, pressed into the corner behind the door where she’d dropped it when Beca had almost slammed her against the wall. “I was looking for the seating charts.” Beca rolled her eyes, kissing her lightly on the cheek as she got up to grab the purse.

 

“Okay, good,” Stacie said. “I honestly can’t handle more than one of us being below full capacity today. The Trebles have started arriving and that basically means that Emily is gone—“

 

“—So Jesse’s here?” Beca almost dropped the bag when she overheard Chloe’s question, placing it on the bed next to her before awkwardly stepping back a few steps and staring at her feet.

 

“I would’ve thought the more pertinent question there would’ve been Benji,” Stacie answered hesitantly. “But yeah, Jesse too. Is there some new information you’d like to share with the class?”

 

Chloe could feel her face redden as Beca started shifting from one foot to the other. “You’ll be the first to know, Stace,” Chloe said. She turned to her purse, trapping her phone between her shoulder and her ear as she sifted through in search for the plans.

 

“I better be. Hell, maybe I’ll even be nice enough to keep it from Amy for a share of the profits.” Chloe snorted, pulling the papers out of the bag. “I’m annoyed enough with that bitch at this point. She nagged me for two months straight about getting a custom-made tuxedo for an iPad so she could be part of the ceremony in ‘proper representative style.’ Do you know what kind of response you get when you reach out to a tailor about an iPad-sized tuxedo?”

 

“I can’t imagine a great one?”

 

“No,” Stacie said, short and clipped. “I had my sanity and intelligence questioned too many times. Like, the first one is valid, but the second? Please. Anyways. If you two felt like meeting me in the lobby in five, I could knock a couple names off my very extensive shit list.”

 

“Aye aye, cap’n,” Chloe responded with a salute that prompted an unwilling giggle from Beca as Chloe hung up the phone. “We’re meeting Stacie in five.” 

 

Beca nodded, chewing on her lip. “So Jesse’s here?”

 

“Apparently.” Chloe held out her hands towards Beca, who grinned reluctantly as she walked over. “Look, no matter how much I want to be able to make everyone jealous by walking into that room with a ridiculously beautiful woman on my arm, I don’t want to cause any issues. I know that Jesse’s important to you, and I don’t want to hurt anyone or cause issues.” She freed one hand, reaching up to cup Beca’s cheek. “I want us to start in a place without any hang-ups or issues. So we’ll be drama free and do what you need to do. Believe it or not, I do have some self control.”

 

“My inner thigh last night would beg to differ,” Beca scoffed, even as she unconsciously leaned her face into Chloe’s hand. Navy eyes locked onto Chloe’s, still and trusting. “But thanks. Really.”

 

With a shrug, Chloe smiled broadly. “What are gal pals for, buddy?”

 

She was rewarded with a sharp kick to the shin as Beca pulled back. “Have I ever told you exactly how much I hate you?” Beca leaned in suddenly, catching Chloe by surprise and swallowing her laugh with a kiss before dragging her off the bed and out of the door.

* * *

 

The last wedding Beca had attended had been Sheila’s and her dad’s. In an attempt to try to bring the sulky teenager and her soon-to-be stepmother closer together, Beca’s dad had forced her to be a part of Sheila’s wedding party. This had resulted in a seventeen-year-old wearing more eyeliner than was good for her and every single spiky earring she owned clad in a frilly pink dress, standing up at the front of a packed church and mentally mashing together every song she knew that Sheila disliked to pass the time.

 

So Beca was admittedly apprehensive about the fact that Chloe had never told her anything about the bridesmaids' dresses. She’d tried her best to predict in what horror she’d be clad, but the contrasting influences of Stacie, Aubrey, and Chloe had made it pretty much impossible. At least she knew that it would fit, thanks to Stacie memorizing every single Bellas’ measurements in her role as costumer for every performance since their sophomore year.

 

After a brief stop at the hotel restaurant to get coffee, because apparently the only way to handle hungover Aubrey was to ply her with enough caffeine to stop an elephant’s heart, they’d met with the rest of the Bellas in the lobby. Aubrey already was clutching a Starbucks cup with Stacie’s name on it in her hands (Beca later checked and discovered that the closest Starbucks was forty miles away). Quirking her mouth to the side as she always did when trying to figure something out, Chloe peered suspiciously at the cup for a solid minute as Stacie designated roles to the assembled group, eventually giving up and hanging the coffee she had over to Beca.

 

They were going to go in shifts to try on the bridesmaids’ outfits, in order to, as Stacie put it, “optimize the limited time we have for other wedding shit.” And of course Chloe and Beca were put first and together, but Beca figured it might allow her to avoid running into Jesse before he got sent off to do his own nuptial task. Yeah, they were on good terms, and yeah, they were still relatively close, but Beca really did not feel like meeting up with her ex-boyfriend for the first time since their breakup while she was relatively sure that Chloe’s handiwork was still visible on her neck despite her best efforts.

 

They drove over to the farm with an endlessly chattering Emily in the back, whose every other word was ‘Benji,’ and Beca couldn’t even manage to be annoyed. She’d gotten to know Benji relatively well through three years of dating Jesse, and he was probably the only person she really would’ve trusted to date Emily without wanting to punch him in the face. He was sweet, kind, and had this ability to intensely devote himself to things he cared about, whether it was pulling quarters from behind people’s ears to land perfectly during a game of ‘Quarters’ (Jesse told her he’d practiced this with apple juice in their room for about three weeks) or memorizing the entirety of the ‘Beach Boys Greatest Hits’ collection. So Emily might’ve been his first girlfriend, but no one would be able to care about her more deeply. Besides, understanding the whole a capella life always helped; those dating outside the ‘aca-circle’ had reported back with stories of dates who had sprinted out of restaurants after hearing the words ‘belt’ and ‘Mariah Carey’ a few too many times.

 

Chloe had thrown caution to the wind at one moment, giving Beca’s knee a gentle squeeze when Emily got distracted by a herd of cows outside the window, meeting her gaze with a soft half-smile that only lasted a second before she turned back to the road, yet still managed to turn Beca into a grinning idiot for the rest of the duration of the car ride. After Emily had literally skipped off towards the dining room to check the proper place settings, Beca had pulled Chloe behind the car, ignoring the redhead’s protests as she pressed their lips lightly together, tucking a freed strand of her hair behind her ear as she pulled back.

 

“Shall we?” Beca turned on her heel as quickly as she could to hide the blush spreading across her cheeks. Chloe coughed a few times behind her, stepping in front a moment later and leading the way into the small building adjacent to the farm that was serving as the bridal preparation complex.

 

A pair of five-paneled standing privacy screens were set up to provide a changing space, hangers peeking over the top. “I think yours is in the left one?” Chloe said, standing on her tiptoes and peering to read the miniscule lettering on the labels for the hooks.

 

“I’ve got to admit I’m a little worried here.” Beca stepped into the dressing area, where four black dressing bags were stacked on top of each other. “Which one is mine?”

 

“It’s probably a safe bet to just go with the child-sized one.”

 

“You’re hilarious,” Beca muttered, grimacing when she located the bag that was significantly smaller than the other three. “What, did you put me in here with Stacie and Aubrey just to make me feel that much shorter?”

 

“I’m hurt, Becs.” Chloe’s voice was muffled with fabric, and Beca heard the sound of clothes dropping to the ground, shutting her eyes in her best attempt to ignore the fact that she was once again alone in a room with a nearly naked Chloe Beale. “I didn’t even set this room up.”

 

“Uh huh.” Beca unzipped the bag, holding her breath and expecting the worst, only to pull out a gorgeous, fitted suit, similar in style to the ones from the Kennedy Center Performance. Subtle baby blue accents popped from the black fabric, and Beca could only imagine how truly astounding Chloe’s eyes would look in this outfit. She shimmied out of her clothes, finding the suit to fit perfectly.

 

“You all good in there?” Chloe’s voice sounded genuinely nervous, waiting with bated breath for Beca’s response. “If it doesn’t fit or something, I can try to see what I can do.”

 

Eyes shut, Beca stepped out from around the screen to a gasp from Chloe. “That bad?” Beca asked, carefully opening one eye, fixed on the ground at Chloe’s blue-painted toenails.

 

“I…you just…Beca, wow.” Beca had never really heard Chloe get tongue-tied before, and she looked up to see the taller girl looking her up and down, mouth slightly ajar. Chloe, of course, looked like some sort of deity, all legs and curves and eyes that caught Beca’s breath in her throat, beautiful and sexy and everything in between in a suit just as much as in a dress.

 

“Right back at ya, Chlo.” Chloe rolled her eyes, stepping forward to drag Beca in front of the mirror and turning her to face her reflection. And yeah, even she had to admit she looked damn good, somehow taller and as close to dignified as she’d ever seen herself. The dorky grin was back, but the image of Chloe’s arms around her waist, fitting behind her perfectly just looked right.

 

Chloe propped her chin up on Beca’s head. “So you don’t hate it?”

 

Beca nudged the top of her head into Chloe’s chin, leaning back into her. “Like you thought I would.” Stepping forwards before turning around, she fixed Chloe with a quizzical stare. “Wait, did you design them?”

 

It was an almost wary smile in response, so worried and self-conscious that Beca’s heart dropped. “Stacie was a bit overwhelmed, so I volunteered. I tried to model them after the Kennedy Center performance suits?”

 

“Yeah, because that performance went so well.”

 

“Hey!” Beca giggled as she dodged Chloe’s elbow. “Would you prefer I went with the gold and black stuff from last year’s other fabulous show? Besides, you know we looked hot in those.”

 

“Well, you kind of look hot in anything,” Beca said, the confident smirk growing back across Chloe’s face. “But really, Chlo. These are incredible, and you look kind of…um. Otherworldly?”

 

Chloe’s eyebrow shot up. “Are you saying I look like an alien?”

 

“Shut up.” Beca stepped in to lean against Chloe’s body, slipping her arms around her back. “I mean, I did think of one other term.” Chloe hummed above her in response. “How about ‘aca-awesome?’”

 

“I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

 

Before Beca could respond, a knock sounded at the door. “Can you two stop making out for long enough to let us in to try on our outfits too?” Jessica’s voice, only slightly muffled by the door, was distinctly stressed, likely from her assignment with Stacie right beforehand.

 

Beca chuckled into Chloe’s suit jacket. “I wish that were the case,” she said, pouting as Chloe wiggled out of her embrace and disappeared behind the changing shade.

 

A couple of minutes later, they walked out the door past Jessica and Ashley, who both looked thoroughly beaten down, slumped against opposite walls. “You two all right?”

 

Jessica slowly turned to face Beca, shaking her head. “Stacie’s a madwoman. Save yourselves and hide in the entry hall for as long as you can. We’re gonna hole up here until she breaks the door down.”

 

Beca snorted. “Good luck with that.”

 

“I’ll send snacks,” Chloe added, following Beca down the hall with an apologetic pat on Ashley’s shoulder.

 

They crossed the freshly cut grass between the two buildings, Chloe holding the door open to allow Beca through first. “So we know Aubrey’s hungover, but what do you think is up with Stace?”

 

“I’m glad you asked,” Beca said, unable to hold back a certain degree of smugness from her tone. “I’ve been working on this—“

 

“Beca?” The timbre of the voice was unmistakable as anything but male, and Chloe’s frantically forced smile confirmed the identity of the speaker. Beca turned from the position she’d been in walking backwards.

 

Jesse was slightly more tan than he’d been when she’d seen him last, likely from a summer of lying out by his family’s pool in North Carolina. His hair had grown a bit longer, and he had the beginnings of scruff for a beard Beca had never let him grow, complaining about beard burn and wholly convinced that it would make him look homeless (she had to take that statement back now). His signature short-sleeved button down had been swapped for a real boy, full-length one, sleeves rolled up to the elbow with his biceps still clearly evident through the cloth. He looked good, if not a bit tired.

 

“Jesse, hey!” The enthusiasm in her tone honestly wasn’t forced; she’d missed having one of her best friends around, and it was comforting to hug him again, even if the respondent arms were a it looser and more hesitant than before. She stood on her toes to place a kiss on his cheek, feeling his jaw tighten under her lips.

 

“Well.” He stepped back, that full grin of his back on his face. “Good to see you too, then. Hey, Chloe.”

 

The redhead gave an awkward wave from a good ten feet away, her face flushed.

 

“Hi!” It was bright and warm, because even an awkward, uncomfortable Chloe Beale couldn’t help but be friendly, even if she seemed like she wanted to sprint out of there as quickly as possible. “I’ll leave you two crazy kids to say hello.” Before Jesse or Beca could respond, Chloe and her wink were nearly jogging across the hall towards Aubrey.

 

“So.” They matched each other’s cross-armed poses, Jesse nodding continuously as he waited for Beca to continue. “How was the drive?”

 

“Chloe, huh?” And he was straight to the point as always, glancing over to where the subject of his statement was forcing a protesting Aubrey into a chair.

 

“Um.”

 

“C’mon, Becs,” he said, punching her lightly in the arm. “You never have to hide anything from me.” Pushing aside the collar of her shirt, he shook his head in mock judgment. “Plus you really need to get better with concealer.”

 

“Dude!” She swatted his hand away, pulling the collar up and looking around the room. “It’s not easy, okay?”

 

“So I guess you’ve been pretty busy, huh?”

 

“Shut up,” Beca grumbled. “It’s—it’s not like that. I mean, we haven’t…well some stuff, but…y’know?”

 

“Dear god,” Jesse intoned, stepping back in mock shock. “Have you lost the ability to say the word ‘sex?’” Her respondent punch was nowhere near light, and he danced away, rubbing his arm as he laughed. “So, what’s the deal then?”

 

Beca swallowed. “I guess we’re dating? I don’t know, it’s all really new.”

 

The nodding was back, slower and deeper this time, his eyes following Chloe before making their way back to Beca. “Well, I’m happy for you, Becs. I really am. I mean, I can’t really say I’m too surprised but…if it was going to be anyone, it should be her.” Jesse fell silent, staring at the floor as his jaw worked.

 

And Beca cursed her inability to know how to comfort anyone beyond what she’d learned from Chloe, really, so she stepped forward with another hug. He tensed up beneath her arms momentarily, shoulders raised and forwards. But as always, Chloe’s tactics worked, Jesse ruffling her hair with his free hand and prompting a yelp from Beca.

 

“You’re gonna hurt someone some day with that feistiness and all, Becaw,” he chided. “But hey, with it being Chloe and all, I’m pretty sure you’ve saved me the trouble of the ‘if you hurt her, I’ll kill you’ speech. Partly because I’m terrified of her arms. But also ‘cuz I know that’s not gonna happen.”

 

They fell back into old habits easily, arguing over movie scoring choices and talking about Bumper and Amy’s latest escapades, which had always been relatively common knowledge even before they were officially a couple. Right as they were launching into a debate about whether or not Amy’s snake cage sex story was true, Benji and Emily walked up, stumbling because of the walking difficulty caused by their seeming inability to unwrap their arms from around each other’s waists.

 

It was a quick moment of panic as Beca followed suit, flinging her arm to wrap around as close as her height would allow to Jesse’s waist, the boy letting out an ‘ooph’ as she squeezed possibly too tightly. “Hey, guys!” It was more high-pitched than usual, and Benji’s smile turned a bit forced, confirming Beca’s suspicions that he knew of the status of ‘Jeca.’

 

“Hey!” Emily was hitting new levels of chipper as she leaned into Benji’s side, all smiles and sunshine and the world in her eyes as she broke every few moments to look over at him as if for confirmation that he was, in fact, still there. “This is so exciting!” When Beca looked at her in confusion, her grin grew almost impossibly wider. “All of us being here, together, at a wedding! It’s like a really fancy double date.”

 

Jesse and Benji met each other’s eyes nervously as Beca cursed the fact that a capella nerd boys could be just as socially inadequate as she was. “Just a lot more expensive,” Beca joked weakly, Jesse joining her in laughter as he seemed to pick up on her cover.

 

“But it’s so nice!” It was hard to believe sometimes that Emily didn’t have a constant IV of caffeine attached to her with the level of energy she kept up, but it was convenient to have around to cover the exceedingly evident uncomfortable silences generated by the other three. “I mean, have you _seen_ the centerpieces? Like, _wow._ ”

 

Benji released his arm from around Emily, his girlfriend turning to him with something almost akin to a pout. “Speaking of which.” He reached behind her ear, revealing a flower with some sort of sleight of hand that lit Emily’s face up even further. “For you, mademoiselle.”

 

She blushed deeply as he fumbled in an attempt to stick it behind her ear, the two knocking heads as they both reached for the ground when the flower fell to the floor. When they stood back up, Emily kissed Benji lightly on the forehead at the point of contact, one hand up against her head to keep the flower in place.  

 

“So how’s getting started at NBC?” Beca asked, feeling Jesse’s hand land on her shoulder as he’d finally realized that he probably should get involved in this display of coupledom.

 

Eyes still on Emily, Benji nodded enthusiastically. “It’s amazing. The cameras are just incredible, and I’m already getting some chances with Nightly News.”

 

“Nice, man!” Jesse’s free hand met Benji’s in a high five. “You didn’t tell me that.”

 

“I mean, it’s generally thirty second clips,” Benji said bashfully. “And I spilled coffee on Lester Holt’s pants a couple days ago. He was great about it, though; I pulled my spare rainbow ribbon out of my sleeve for him to use as a napkin. Turns out he’s an amateur magician too.”

 

“It’s like some weird fraternity,” Beca said, feeling guilty about her automatic snark until Benji grinned even more widely in confirmation.

 

“A brotherhood of magic enthusiasts.” He adopted something akin to a Superman pose, Emily giggling as she watched. “I like that.”

 

“So what’s Stace got you two doing?” Jesse asked, looking over the couple’s head. “I mean, I don’t see her, but she’s got spies everywhere.”

 

Emily released Benji for a moment to pull her phone out of her pocket. “You two are actually with us on reception sound-check.” She looked around at the assembled group, contagious glee spreading. “Sounds perfect for us, right?”

 

So Beca and Jesse followed the other two, shoving each other lightly in the shoulder as they went before starting into yet another argument about the proper HDMI cable to use with the sound system.

* * *

It wasn’t jealousy. To be honest, any sort of insecurity was the farthest thing from Chloe’s mind as she watched Beca and Jesse struggling through hugs and eventually forcing the fake couple pose as they talked with Emily and Benji. At this point, she knew from personal experience what Beca Mitchell felt and looked like with some sort of genuine feelings, and she was just grateful that Jesse was willing to do whatever was necessary to keep Beca comfortable. Really, Chloe had always liked Jesse; she was sure they could have been great friends if he hadn’t been dating the girl she was in love with. No, Chloe hadn’t left the room because watching Beca and Jesse had caused her to worry about her future with Beca. She’d left because she felt guilty.

 

Despite her best efforts, Chloe had always been present in their relationship. Whether it was hearing about all of Jesse’s faults or dragging Beca away to dance at parties, Beca and Jesse had only existed sans Chloe for a certain period of time. This was to be expected with two female best friends, up to a point, but both Chloe and Jesse had known that they’d passed it pretty early on.

 

So Chloe was left with the nagging doubt that the only reason Jesse and Beca hadn’t worked out was because they’d never been given a chance. Jesse was a great guy; attractive, funny, sweet, caring to a fault, and a damn talented singer and dancer. He should’ve been perfect for pretty much anyone. But maybe Beca didn’t need someone who let her run behind her walls and hide from the world.

 

Chloe was startled out of her musing by raised voices from around the corner. She came to a sudden halt, recognizing the voices’ owners even before she peered along the wall. Stacie and Aubrey were face to face, Stacie’s back to Chloe and Aubrey’s face contorted with an intensity that was sourced from something beyond a hangover.

 

“And the busboy? And the waitress at the bar two nights ago? I just…you really just have no boundaries.” Aubrey’s voice was tight with effort as she tried to keep her volume low, the sharpness still filtering through.

 

“No boundaries?” Stacie snapped. “I’m just doing what you asked, Aubrey.”

 

“I didn’t ask you to throw yourself at everything with a heartbeat that walks by!” Stacie’s shoulders jumped as Aubrey stepped forward, her jaw set. “I don’t know what you’re expecting me to do here.”

 

“Don’t act like a crazy person when I’m following your orders!”

 

Aubrey’s index finger jammed into Stacie’s chest, the taller girl recoiling at the impact. “Do not accuse me of being controlling.” Every word was punctuated with a jab, Stacie backing up slowly as Aubrey’s face only grew more fierce. “It’s not my fault that you’re acting like a dumb frat boy.”

 

“What?” Stacie straightened her shoulders combatively, Aubrey holding her ground but visibly shaken. “ _Dumb frat boy_? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

 

“’The Hunter?’”

 

“It’s a stupid joke, Aubrey!” Stacie’s hands raised in exasperation while Aubrey leaned back on her heels. “I’m just trying to do what’s most comfortable for us, okay?” It was softer in tone and volume, and Stacie slumped back against the wall behind her.

 

Aubrey’s sigh was long, and she ran her fingers through her hair as she turned her back to both Stacie and Chloe. “I know,” she murmured. “Look, I know I’m difficult. And I don’t want to be like this but—“

 

She broke her sentence as ‘I Saw the Sign’ filled the hallway. Stacie muttered some curse that Chloe couldn’t make out, barely managing to pull back from the corner as the leggy brunette turned around while Aubrey answered her phone. “Hello, this is Aubrey Posen. Yes. Yes. Mmhmm. I can do that. Friday? Perfect.”

 

“What was that about?”

 

“The realtor. Set for Friday.” There was silence for a moment, and Chloe considered peeking back around before she heard footsteps heading towards her. At this point, there was no way she was going to make it back in time, so she quietly took a few steps backwards and set off at a brisk pace in Aubrey and Stacie’s direction, bracing herself for the oncoming impact.

 

She made direct contact with Stacie’s chest, which, all things considered, was probably the softest surface she could’ve expected. “Woah, hey!” Stacie caught her by the elbows as she stumbled, and Chloe looked up to see evidence of mascara running under her eyes even as she fixed Chloe with a concerned smile. “You all right there?”

 

“Yeah, sorry, Stace,” Chloe replied. “They were looking for y’all in the main hall.”

 

Aubrey glanced down at her watch. “Sorry, we were discussing plans and lost track of the time.”

 

“Plans?”

 

“Yeah,” Stacie cut in, hand coming up behind Aubrey’s back subtly to hush her. “I mean, we do have a very important night coming up.” She started off back down the hall, Aubrey and Chloe in tow.

 

“So how concerned should I be exactly?” Chloe asked, glancing over at Aubrey for any signs of distress similar to Stacie’s. “You only told me the basics.”

 

“The less you know, the better. But trust me, Chlo, it’ll be very relevant to your previous career interests.” She held the door open, letting Chloe and Aubrey pass through first. “But I mean, my goal is that at least one of us remembers _something._ ”

 

“Are we talking on the level of Tikipocalypse 2013?”

 

Stacie’s respondent laugh was almost chilling. “Oh, sweetie,” she said, voice lowered for menacing effect. “This time, I’m pretty sure no one’s letting you keep on your bra.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, this one was shorter than the previous ones and I’m sorry. Also, yes, I googled the anchor for NBC Nightly News because Brian Williams is gone. The things you end up looking up for stories…anyways. Next chapter. Stacie Conrad-planned Bachelorette party. I’m going to tell you, I’m McFreakin’ pumped about this chapter. Like I wish I could’ve skipped Seven to write it. Hopefully this wasn’t too painful, though. Come yell at me about this at bicamitchell on the Tumbles.comz. 
> 
> P.S. THIS STAUBREY FIGHT HAS SO MUCH BUILD-UP TO IT AND IT’S KILLING ME THAT I’M TOO LAZY TO ACTUALLY FINISH STAUBREY FIC SO YOU GUYS UNDERSTAND IT. IT’S JUST GAHHHHH I LOVE THEM TOO MUCH


	8. Trap Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stacie Conrad: Best Woman and Badass Bachelorette Party Planner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh.

As was to be expected with the team working on the sound check, all activity had eventually devolved into fighting with the rejected aux cords, each successful contact punctuated with a yelp thanks to surprisingly heavy metal components. Stacie and Aubrey had disappeared a good twenty minutes ago, and it had really always been Chloe’s job to keep everyone to a tight schedule. Beca would make the Bellas slave until late hours, but they often ended up in these situations because she’d gotten distracted earlier in the rehearsals (often in connection to Chloe’s outfit of the day) and had a last-minute panic attack when she realized they’d accomplished nothing.

 

So she was standing on top of a chair on the reception hall stage, thwacking Jesse with a shitty twenty dollar cord that she was almost offended he’d brought along when Stacie, Aubrey, and Chloe reentered the room, the former two looking a bit worse for wear. Chloe immediately caught Beca’s eye with a light quirk of her lips that still managed to stun her for long enough for Jesse to land a solid blow on her knees.

 

Beca went crashing to the ground, elbows and head making contact heavily with the wood of the stage. “Shit!” Jesse was kneeling next to her a second later, immediately followed by Chloe, who seemed to have flown across the room just as Beca’s chair went down with her. “I’m so sorry!”

 

“It’s fine,” Beca muttered woozily, head spinning as it was gently lifted by soft hands. As if Chloe needed the help of a possible concussion to look like an angel, but Beca couldn’t help herself as she looked up slowly, blinking her eyes. “You’re so pretty.”

 

Chloe’s eyes darted over to Jesse, who simply shrugged in response before lifting Beca up by her shoulders, Chloe still cradling her head. Stacie had hopped onto the stage at this point, squatting in front of Beca and peering into her eyes. “You really have a knack for Bella-related injuries, don’t you?” Turning to Jesse, she jerked her head towards the back hallway. “Can you help me get her somewhere to lie down so I can make sure she’s not gonna die on us?”

 

He nodded, and Chloe moved aside to allow Stacie to take Beca’s other arm. “Do you need any help?” Chloe asked, voice wavering lightly.

 

Stacie shook her head. “No, it’s fine, Chlo. Can you just keep things running smoothly here? Aubrey has the list.”

 

They stepped carefully off the stage, Beca’s vision slowly returning to normal. “You do know you’re not actually a doctor yet, right?” Stacie paused at Aubrey’s words, turning Beca slightly to face her.

 

“Yes,” she answered slowly. “But I’m the closest thing we’ve got.” Aubrey’s jaw set, one of her eyebrows shooting up incredulously. “C’mon Aubs, the closest urgent care center or whatever has got to be at least fifty miles away. Plus, we all know this one’s hard-headed enough that she could probably bounce off a bunch of brick walls and be fine.”

 

“Hey!”

 

Aubrey’s face softened, and Beca swore she could almost see a glimpse of the first smile from her in over a day. “Okay, just…be careful?”

 

Stacie’s respondent grin was soft and warm as she shifted Beca lightly and continued their path down the hall. They reached the now empty changing room, Jessica and Ashley nowhere to be found, and Stacie ignored Beca’s protests as she and Jesse forced her to the ground.

 

“Anything I can do to help here?” Jesse asked.

 

“I don’t think so.” Stacie held up her index finger, running it slowly back and forth in front of Beca’s eyes. “If you could go track down the brides and our missing Bellas, that’d be awesome.”

 

Hopping up to his feet, Jesse saluted. “Aye aye, cap’n.” He reached down automatically to ruffle Beca’s hair, barely thinking better of it in time. “Try not to die, all right, Becs?”

 

Still tracking Stacie’s finger with her eyes, Beca’s only confirmation that Jesse had left was the sound of the door closing behind him. “Is this really necessary?” Beca whined.

 

With a sigh, Stacie placed both hands on Beca’s jaw, lightly rolling her head around in a counterclockwise circle. “You went down pretty hard there,” she said softly. “I think you’re fine, but I feel like certain individuals might kill me if I didn’t do due diligence.” She snorted at Beca’s glare, releasing her head and falling back on her heels. “Besides, I need us all in tip top shape for tonight.”

 

“Yeah, you gonna tell me anything more about that?”

 

“The less you know, the better.” Stacie snapped on either side of Beca’s head, her other hand reaching for Beca’s. “Squeeze my hand. Reflex, strength, and sensation testing.” As Beca repeatedly grabbed and released her hand, Stacie continued to examine her eyes. “So. You want to tell me anything more about…things?”

Beca dropped Stacie’s hand, shaking her head slowly and wincing at the resultant ache in the back of her head. The taller girl reached around, fingers searching for a bump. “I don’t know what you’re talking ab—OW!”

 

Stacie grinned triumphantly. “There we are.” She moved to squat behind Beca, pushing her hair aside with gentle fingers. “I don’t know, Becs. You’ve never been the most coordinated out of us, but _something_ must have knocked you on your ass off a relatively sturdy chair.”

 

“Jesse hit me with the cord,” Beca said, whimpering again as Stacie’s thumb landed on the point of contact with the ground.

 

“Uh huh.” She felt Stacie’s hands move off her head, meeting green eyes yet again as Stacie sat down in front of her. “Well, you seem to be okay, at least physically. Just a bad bump. Mentally…” Beca shoved her lightly backwards, Stacie barely catching herself before standing up and leaning down to offer Beca a hand.

 

Beca started towards the door, rubbing the back of her head gingerly. “Hey, Becs?” She turned on her heel at the sound of Stacie’s voice, the leggy brunette thoughtfully chewing on her bottom lip. “Seriously. If there’s ever anything you need to talk about or whatever, you know I’m here, right?”

 

Swallowing slowly and painfully, Beca plastered an innocent smile to her face. Stacie had always had these weird mind-reading powers that no one could understand, and maybe it was the fall messing with Beca’s head, but she could swear that Stacie was less asking for information and more for confirmation. She’d been too far from the stage to hear Beca’s verbal slip up with Chloe, and had seemed to spend most of the week so far either corralling Aubrey or dealing with any of the other six thousand items on her absurd punch list, but Beca had learned to never really put anything past her at this point.

 

“Yeah, of course, Stace,” Beca replied, voice too high and tight to be anywhere near natural. “But everything’s good. Great.”

 

Eyebrow quirked, Stacie searched Beca’s face for a moment, waiting for any cracks in the flimsy façade. Beca’s patience, or maybe Stacie’s desire to get back to the preparation for the wedding and whatever hell awaited them tonight, eventually won out, and she simply sighed, following Beca out the door.

 

“So do you think Jesse actually managed to find everyone?”

 

Stacie shrugged, not breaking the pace that Beca was already struggling to keep up with. “If he hasn’t, I just might have to set Aubrey on them.”

 

“Isn’t there something in the Geneva Conventions against that?” Beca asked, skipping backwards to avoid Stacie’s shove.

 

“Be nice.” Stacie took the lead again, hair hiding her face from Beca’s view. “She’s…under a lot of stress, okay?”

 

Beca watched Stacie’s shoulders tighten, tendons in her neck rising. There was clearly something going on with Stacie and Aubrey, and, even without Stacie’s mind-reading powers, Beca had narrowed it down to either a friendship-ending catfight over wedding plans or some sort of awkward drunken kiss that made them both particularly uncomfortable for some reason. The two had always been relatively close, some strange sort of understanding or respect between them that Beca had never really figured out, but upon which even Chloe had commented at one point or another. But all Beca really had was observations, and she made a mental note to discuss it with Chloe later (not that that was the only thing on her mind relating to Chloe).

 

When they got back to the main hall, Jesse seemed to have succeeded in his task, as Jessica, Ashley, and Lilly were all clustered together against the far wall. Chloe was leaning against the stage, arms tensed and seemingly only half-listening to what Aubrey was saying to her. The second the door closed behind them, she jumped up, nearly sprinting her way over to Stacie and Beca.

 

“Are you all right?” It was quiet and almost too conspiratorial, Chloe’s eyes flashing back and forth between Beca’s as if she could discern the answer from them alone.

 

“Just a bit of a bump,” Stacie answered. “This clumsy moron is no more or less mentally sound than she was previously.”

 

Beca rolled her eyes, jabbing her elbow into Stacie’s side. “Yeah, I’m good.” She placed her hand on Chloe’s arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “But thanks for the concern, Chlo.”

 

Stacie was unable to hold back her snort as she watched them, Chloe pressing her free hand over Beca’s. Aubrey came up behind Chloe’s shoulder, meeting Stacie’s eyes in a knowing glance before clearing her throat. “Looks like the other bridal party has arrived,” she said.

 

Dropping her hand, Beca turned to see Cynthia Rose and Hayley entering the room, a gaggle of girls behind them, clad in various shades of pastel. Cynthia Rose walked in front, a barely restrained expression of exhaustion and annoyance on her face, while Hayley mixed with the bunch, talking excitedly in a twang that had somehow grown heavier just by the group’s presence.

 

Quickening her step to beat the rest, Cynthia Rose came up to Stacie. “Have you met Hayley’s sorority sisters?” The forced smile only grew more desperate as Stacie fought back a laugh.

 

“I haven’t.” She clicked her tongue, surveying the group with amusement. “But I feel like I’m about to.” She took a deep breath before walking over, Cynthia Rose in tow.

 

“Do we need to follow?” Beca asked, looking between Chloe and Aubrey.

 

Before Aubrey could respond, Chloe let out a huff, grabbing the two other girls by their arms and dragging them forwards, ignoring all protests coming from both sides. “Try to act like grown ups for once in your lives,” Chloe muttered, shoving Beca forwards towards their counterparts.

 

Stacie seemed to have overcome her reluctance, and was talking to a tall blonde in a low cut sundress, playfully touching her arm as she laughed, complimenting her hair curling expertise, and seeming to just generally follow The Hunter’s whims. Beca heard a sharp intake of breath behind her, glancing over her shoulder to see Aubrey, eyes narrowed furiously in Stacie’s direction before she stepped forwards, hand outstretched, and nearly shook off the arm of the first girl to accept her handshake.

 

For her part, Beca did her best to avoid eye contact with the group, smiling uncomfortably as she stared at her feet. Hayley seemed to notice her discomfort, stepping into the center of the circle and looking around until she had everyone’s attention. “Hey y’all. Glad you could get here, and I just wanted to introduce everyone. Y’all’ve met my gorgeous fiancée, Cynthia Rose, of course, and these are her a capella teammates, Beca, Aubrey, Chloe, and Stacie.” Glancing over to the rest of the Bellas as they approached, she grinned even more widely. “And there’s Emily, Lilly, Jessica, and Ashley.”

 

An almost eerily synchronized “hey” came from the other girls, and Chloe beamed around the circle as Beca gave an awkward half-wave. “So we’re all going to dinner together before we split off for whatever Stacie and Kelly have put together,” Hayley continued. “If everyone’s set to go, we can split into cars and head over?”

 

“Sounds good to me,” Cynthia Rose said, looking around at the Bellas for confirmation. They all gave some sort of nod or thumbs up, except for Aubrey, whose eyes remained trained on Stacey and the blonde, hands balled up in fists as Chloe watched her incredulously.

 

Once the cars were organized, Beca and Chloe paired with Jesse, Benji, and Emily, Beca grabbed the redhead by the arm to hold her back. “Okay, so tell me honestly. How scared do I have to be for tonight?”

 

“I know nothing.”

 

“Yeah, you’re definitely not allowed to watch Game of Thrones anymore,” Beca groaned.

 

Chloe laughed, nudging Beca lightly with her hips. “Like you could ever stop me. But really. Stace has kept it under wraps. Which admittedly scares me.”

 

“Are we talking Tikipocalypse level here? Because I don’t know if I’m feeling up for the body shot ice luge relay race.”

 

“Hey, I gained a lot of appreciation for your shallow belly button and the limited amounts of tequila it holds,” Chloe said. “But she claims we’re going further than that.”

 

“Oh dear god.”

* * *

Chloe was honestly surprised at how smoothly dinner was going. They’d found the only restaurant in town that could easily handle a group of that size to be a hibachi restaurant, and the Bellas and the Zetas were getting along swimmingly after a fair number of sake bombs. Lilly, Emily, and a brunette who was giving Beca a run for her money in the tiny category had pooled their vegetables and were stacking them on Emily’s plate in the center, creating an increasingly precarious tower that Chloe was partially sure they were going to attempt to light on fire at some point. Jessica and Ashley were talking about some Canadian webseries with a pair of Zetas, Stacie was laughing at something the blonde from before whispered in her ear while Aubrey viciously speared a piece of chicken, and Cynthia Rose and Hayley were off in their own little love world, arms wrapped around each other as the Bella placed kisses on her fiancee’s cheek.

 

“Are you okay?” Chloe turned to her right to see Jesse watching her closely, concerned expression across his face. “You seemed to kind of zone out there.”

 

“Yeah, sorry,” Chloe said. “They’re just really in love, you know?”

 

Jesse nodded. “They’re lucky.” His eyes lingered on the brides, distant and lost before returning to Chloe. “So, you and Beca, huh?”

 

Chloe choked on her wine, Aubrey, Beca, and Emily all looking over towards her until she held up a hand, shaking her head to dispel their worry. She wiped her napkin across her mouth, blinking a few times to clear her head before turning back to Jesse. “Beca told you?”

 

He shrugged, sucking a noodle into his mouth with a loud slurping sound. “She didn’t have to. It’s all in how you look at each other.” Jesse glanced over towards Beca, who was trying to surreptitiously steal food off of Aubrey’s plate, the former captain too distracted as the blonde Zeta’s hand made its way up Stacie’s arm. “Plus the hickeys kind of tipped me off.”

 

Chloe’s face reddened, and she cautiously took a sip of her drink. “Oh,” she breathed. “Yeah, that…um. Not my best move?”

 

“You don’t have to be worried about it or anything,” Jesse said. “I’m happy for you guys. And honestly kind of surprised it didn’t happen earlier.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“I’m not dumb.” He sipped his beer, joining Chloe’s eyes to watch the leaning tower of vegetables as it leaned ever farther to the right. “Hell, I think you and I knew how she felt about you before she did. If anything, I feel bad for standing in the way.”

 

And the guilt was back. Jesse Swanson was the boyfriend that any girl should’ve wanted, and he’d fallen for Beca despite all of her attempts to push him back. Chloe knew he meant what he said genuinely, because Jesse had never been one to lie or try to confuse anyone, but the idea that he was somehow at fault formed a pit in Chloe’s stomach.

 

They both watched Beca there on Chloe’s left, that subtly triumphant smirk as she stole a piece of chicken off of Aubrey’s plate before washing it down with some of her own wine, radiant and happy despite her best efforts. Chloe knew it was all either of them had wanted, Beca Mitchell happy and open and feeling loved, whoever brought it to her. Because Jesse was Jesse, he’d step out of the way for Beca’s sake, no matter how much it hurt him. Sharing a silent glance, Chloe knew. Jesse might or might not still be in love with Beca, but he just wanted Chloe to take care of her.

 

Aubrey flagged down the waiter, her eyes never leaving Stacie, and ordered four sake bombs for Beca, Chloe, Jesse, and herself, an almost threatening glare directed at Chloe as she tried to argue. “It’s a bachelorette party, Beale,” she hissed. “Live a little.”

 

Drunk Aubrey had always scared Chloe a bit, and so she accepted the beer and shot glass, wincing as the mix hit her tongue. Beca was, as always, the last to finish, taking breaks between sips to shoot Chloe miserable looks as Aubrey stared her down. The leaning vegetable tower finally collapsed, and Emily launched into a display of raucous laughter that was even uncharacteristic for her.  

 

“Do you think Emily’s okay?” Beca’s voice was low, but the worry in it was still clearly evident.

 

“How much did she have to drink?” Chloe asked.

 

Beca shrugged, holding her hands out in front of her as she attempted to count. “Well, we all had like two rounds together, and then I kind of lost track?”

 

“That’s a good sign,” Jesse said with a laugh. “Look, Benji and I were gonna head back before the real bachelorette party started anyways. Want us to take her with us?”

 

“Might be best,” Chloe answered. “Aubrey as a shit show is going to be enough anyways, and, knowing Stacie, I don’t necessarily want Emily to be exposed to whatever is going to happen.”

 

Nodding, Jesse turned to Benji on his right, speaking quietly so as not to draw any of the other Bellas’ attention. As Chloe returned to the small amount of wine in front of her, she felt Beca’s hand land on her leg. With a sharp intake of breath, she closed her eyes, doing her best to ignore the thumb slowly making its way towards the edge of her shorts.

 

“Hey, Beca?” Her voice was thin and high, and she opened her eyes to see Beca grinning devilishly at her just as her hand slid up under the thin fabric. “What are you up to there?”

 

“Taste of your own medicine and all that,” Beca purred, leaning in to Chloe’s ear.

 

“Uh huh.” Chloe dropped her hand to Beca’s wrist as Stacie looked over at them. “Don’t you think there’s a better time and place?”

 

Following Chloe’s subtle head movement, Beca smiled sheepishly at Stacie, settling for running her fingers against the sensitive underside of Chloe’s wrist. “I can think of a few.” And Chloe had to be incredibly thankful for Jesse’s presence fortifying her limited self control when Beca slowly licked her lips, dragging her fingers across Chloe’s thigh before removing her hand.

 

Dinner was wrapped up without much incident, Benji and Jesse carefully making their way over to Emily as Stacie and Kelly, the blonde Zeta who was serving as Hayley’s Maid of Honor, argued over who would pay the bill. Stacie ultimately won by snatching the check from the waiter with her incredibly long arms before Kelly even got close, Aubrey’s face turning gleeful as Stacie completely ignored the pout shot her way by the defeated party.

 

The Zetas were apparently heading to the hotel for whatever their planned activity was, and after a large number of jokes regarding male prostitutes and penis-shaped cookies, they left in a cloud of Kate Spade perfume and monogrammed necklaces. The Bellas were left staring at Stacie, who had informed them that she’d planned ahead and gotten a car service so “none of their drunk asses would be driving.”

 

Aubrey muttered something that sounded similar to “the only adult action Stacie had ever taken” as Cynthia Rose stared longingly off in the direction of the departing Zetas (or specifically Hayley) across the parking lot. Jessica and Ashley were hanging off of each other as always, and Beca stood frozen with a horrified expression on her face as she seemed to be finally understanding Lilly as she whispered in her ear.

 

So Chloe was really the only one undistracted enough to see the stretch limo approaching them, turning to Stacie with an expression of shock on her face. “How the hell did you get a limo to come out here?”

 

“What can I say?” Stacie replied with a shrug full of false humility. “I’m just that good.”  

 

“Heard that before,” Aubrey snorted, voice low enough so only Chloe could hear. She turned to her friend for further explanation, but Aubrey simply placed her finger over Chloe’s lips before she could say anything.

 

Beca was the first to dart into the limo, pressing herself as far back into a corner as she could and staring at Chloe desperately as if she could provide some sort of protective barrier from whatever Lilly had said. Chloe climbed into the limo, freezing for a moment as she caught sight of the decorations.

 

“Where the hell did you find neon light-up vaginas, Stace?” They were everywhere, dangling from the ceiling, stuck to the walls, and scattered across the floor, and Chloe landed face first in one particular model when Jessica shoved her into the limo. She heard Beca’s snort of laughter as Chloe peeled herself off the floor, dropping with a huff onto the nearest seat and sliding over to allow the rest of the Bellas in.

 

The Best Woman herself entered last, peering around at her handiwork. “Special order,” she said, pushing one off the last remaining open seat and pulling her long legs close as she closed the door. “Personally, I think it’s a serious societal issue that most places only have penis-shaped shit on hand for bachelorette parties. If this whole med school thing doesn’t work out, I might have to start a company. How does ‘Flower Power’ sound as a name?” 

* * *

In truth, Beca was almost scared to step out of the limo. It was already so Stacie, riding in a vehicle with tinted windows to an unknown location, so chock full of vagina-shaped objects that Beca had to dodge a few flying synthetic genitalia when the driver took a particularly sharp turn. Aubrey, a bit too slow on her part, took it right in the nose, tossing the piece of hard plastic back at Stacie’s head when she tried to come over to check whether the blonde was all right.

 

The vehicle had eventually stopped after a fifteen-minute drive, and the rest of the Bellas had already climbed out, Chloe last of all. She stood at the door, peering expectantly at Beca.

 

“What is it?” Beca hissed. Chloe turned to look at the building behind her.

 

“I’m not sure. Very nondescript.”

 

“Does it look like I’m going to die?” Chloe rolled her eyes, reaching in and grabbing Beca by the arm, dragging her through the door despite all protests.

 

And Chloe was right. The building itself was made of plain brick, the only distinguishing feature being a cloth overhang, beneath which stood a ridiculously muscular man in a suit. Beca could feel faint bass pumping through the ground, low, slow, and almost sultry, confirming all of her suspicions about where they’d ended up.

 

“Stacie, are we at a strip club?”

 

Stacie raised her hands innocently, walking towards the door and speaking with its guard as the rest hung back. Beca grabbed Chloe by the arm, holding her back even as the door opened and the rest followed Stacie in. “Is there any way this ends well?”

 

“Depends on your definition,” Chloe mused. “I’m personally thinking of it as a land of opportunity.”

 

“Did I ever mention that I hate you?”

 

The redhead didn’t even bother to respond, simply jogging after the rest of the group, and leaving Beca with the choice of awkwardly standing alone in the parking lot for what was sure to be a few hours or subjecting herself to whatever fresh hell Stacie Conrad had cooked up. In the end, she did what she always did, and followed Chloe begrudgingly, glaring at the bouncer as he requested her ID to prove that she was at least 18.

 

The first thing that caught her attention was all the flannel. Yes, it was New England, and they seemed to be going for some sort of lumberjack theme, but dear god in heaven, this was too much. The Bellas were the only ones in the strip club besides four balding men, two of whom seemed to be there primarily for the questionable buffet. The other two were enjoying personalized lap dances from women clad in red, flannel-print bras and thongs, and Beca could swear that she saw little moose heads on the front of one of the bra cups.

 

It seemed as if a private table had been set aside for them, not that it was particularly necessary, and Beca’s delay stuck her in one of the chairs set off at the front rather than in the booth bench that Lilly, Jessica, Ashley, and Cynthia Rose had filled. She plopped down in the chair next to Chloe, dropping her elbows onto the table. Chloe seemed to be wholly enjoying herself, nodding along to the music as her eyes roamed across the darkened space.

 

“Reconsidering that whole grad school deal?”

 

Chloe didn’t respond for a moment, accepting a drink from the tray the waitress brought over and handing another to Beca. “I mean, only if I get to wear those badass moose bras.”

 

“Thank god I’m not crazy,” Beca laughed.

 

“How could anyone miss that?” Chloe took down her whole drink with surprising ease, shaking her head with a cough before grabbing a shot glass. “But I have other plans. Maybe it can just be a hobby.”

 

Beca’s stomach flipped at Chloe’s wink as she took the shot of whisky. So maybe Beca had imagined Chloe as an exotic dancer a few times ever since the retreat, and she sure as hell wasn’t proud of it, but her talking about it in a strip club, surrounded by pounding bass and a haze of alcohol, smoke, and low, dangerous whispers was almost too much. She sipped her own drink slowly, turning to watch Stacie whisper something in Aubrey’s ear, the blonde staring forwards with an endlessly furrowed brow.

 

And Stacie must have set something up in particular with the club, because the drinks were always there, and somehow half of the Bellas’ setlists from the past four years made their way into the club’s playlist, resulting in an obnoxious a capella sing-along of which Beca would have been embarrassed if they weren’t nearly alone there. She and Chloe had been testing the limits a few times, hands slipping under shirts or too far above knees, but Stacie and Aubrey seemed to be distracted as Stacie tried to crack Aubrey’s frown. Lilly had disappeared a while back, and Cynthia Rose, Jessica, and Ashley were engaged in some lengthy discussion of gender theory, completely oblivious of the debauchery around them.

 

Beca was barely beyond buzzed, but at some point, both Stacie and Chloe had disappeared to the bathroom, leaving Beca to drag her finger around the rim of her glass, looking over to Aubrey for any sort of explanation but being met with the same stone face she’d held since the hibachi restaurant. She’d just pulled out her phone to text Chloe when any questions were answered as the opening of the next track began.

 

Chloe Beale was a good Southern girl in many aspects. She went to church on major holidays, avoided swearing in most occasions, and was known to drop the occasional “bless your heart” in the proper situation. But Chloe had a serious weakness for trashy rap with heavy bass lines, and most of her ‘lady jams’ (as she continued to call them despite Beca’s protests) of the last four years had fit into this category. So when ‘Trap Queen’ started up on the speakers, Beca knew two things. One, this was all Chloe’s doing. Two, she was screwed.

 

The first mistake she made was closing her eyes, as if that was going to save her from the impending test of self control. So all Beca felt was her chair slowly being turned around, and she only thought too late to grip the edge of the table to remain in place.

 

The second mistake she made was opening her eyes. And of course she chose the worst moment to do it, just as Chloe was slowly peeling off her jacket, half-hooded eyes trained on Beca in a manner that turned her legs to water. Chloe tossed the discarded garment lightly and expertly so that it brushed against the exposed skin of Beca’s neck before landing on the table, sending anticipatory shivers down Beca’s spine.

 

She could only describe Chloe’s forward motion as a predatory stalk, eyes never leaving Beca’s own, hips swaying like pure sex despite the five inch heels strapped to her feet. One hand landed on Beca’s shoulder, burning even through the fabric of her shirt. Chloe slipped one leg between Beca’s knees, the brunette’s legs snapping open before she could even think about it.

 

The older girl slid into the newly opened space, close enough so that Beca’s eyes were barely an inch away from unfairly flawless breasts, Chloe’s back arched forwards. And Beca couldn’t help herself as her eyes trailed down Chloe’s body, past her waist and over to that sculpted ass, pausing shamelessly before traveling across seemingly endless legs.

 

Chloe’s free hand landed on the chair behind Beca, and she leaned in, breath caressing Beca’s earlobe. “Do you still hate me now?” It was somehow guttural and dirty, and Beca could feel her body coil, gripping the edges of her chair, if only to stop herself from doing anything that would get them both kicked out of the club. The redhead’s hips began to sway lightly, and Beca’s eyes moved with them, hypnotizing and deadly.

 

Beca looked over to her left to see Stacie literally straddling Aubrey, who somehow still stared straight forwards with an unaffected death glare, mouth set in a hard line even as Stacie’s hand landed on her jaw. And Beca could’ve asked, confirmed, mentioned, or anything right then and there if Chloe hadn’t chosen that moment to simultaneously place a hand on Beca’s waist and grind her thigh in between Beca’s own.

 

She could give zero fucks about whatever the hell was going on between Stacie and Aubrey as a moan fell out of her mouth, desperate, low, and full of need that pushed her hands up to land on Chloe’s hips. The other girl smirked, catching her lip between her teeth as she swayed beneath Beca’s grasp, feather light touches over Beca’s shirt combining with the pounding bass and the endlessly circular motion of the dancer under her hands to push her to places she’d never been before. That lust from the previous night when she’d been willing to consider sex with Emily in the room? It had nothing on this, and bets and standards and protocol were all gone as her vision narrowed to nothing but Chloe.

 

Beca felt her hands lightly brushed away, figuring that Chloe had decided they’d gone too far. Of course, as always when Chloe was involved, she was wrong, and just as she tried to press her legs together to regain some semblance of self-control, Beca felt Chloe’s ass hovering over her, agonizingly close as the redhead tilted her head back, ear right next to Beca’s mouth.

 

While her first impulse may have been to grab Chloe by the waist, spin her around, and ignore any of her own concerns regarding sanitation or general decency, she took a deep gulp and leaned in closer. “I think you _really_ should consider that exotic dancing career,” she whispered.

 

Chloe responded by dropping into Beca’s lap fully, hands falling back behind her to clasp behind Beca’s neck and drawing her close so that she could surely feel the growl that escaped Beca’s throat as Chloe dragged against her shorts. “I’ve thought about it.” She pulled her back flush against Beca’s chest, moving to press one of Beca’s hands up against defined abs. “But do you really want to share this with anyone else?”

 

Beca’s fingers dug against Chloe’s stomach, the taller girl groaning as she ground into Beca’s body. The hand around the back of her neck tightened, short nails pressing into sensitized skin in a way that sent Beca’s other hand to clasp on one of Chloe’s endlessly moving legs, rolling and circling and sending Beca to the point where she wasn’t sure whether she was going to stop breathing or forget her own name first.

 

Chloe nipped at the edge of Beca’s jaw on one particular sway, Beca’s chest heaving, coarse breaths escaping as lithe muscles moved beneath her hands. Chloe’s shirt became her enemy, flimsy as it was, her hungry fingers wanting nothing more than to rip it off and fulfill any of those agonizing compulsions that made up all of Beca’s being as Chloe rode her body, a combination of expert, clinical skill and that wild, ravenous fire that seemed to overtake Chloe when she stood over Beca in these moments.

 

And Beca made a mental note to track down Fetty Wap and force him to record some hour-long version of this song as it wound down, pulling them out of their own world where they weren’t in a dinky strip club in the middle of Maine, surrounded by their collegiate a capella teammates. Honestly, Beca was faced with different reactions than she’d expected. Jessica and Ashley were simply murmuring in each other’s ears, as always, while Cynthia Rose tapped away on her phone, pausing only for an instant to shoot Beca a wink. Aubrey’s furious façade had broken, leaving her flushed and face to face with Stacie, who had both hands wrapped in her hair with a dare in her eyes.

 

Chloe was still barely dangling over Beca, the brunette’s hands gripping her in what she realized was likely a slightly painful manner. So Beca let go before Chloe made any moves, fighting every instinct she had as the redhead peeled herself off her body. Once Chloe turned back around, they stood in silence, eyes still in place on each other as their labored breaths matched.

 

“So I think everyone should be getting home.” Cynthia Rose’s voice, dripping in mirth, broke the collective silence, Stacie swung her hips over Aubrey’s legs, frozen for a moment before readopting that expression she’d used all week to terrify them into obedience.

 

“Well, we do have a relatively important day tomorrow,” Stacie quipped, leaning over to punch Cynthia Rose lightly in the arm. “Are Hayley and her crew all set?”

 

Cynthia Rose nodded, sliding out of the booth. “I’m meeting her at the hotel with y’all.”

 

“Perfect.” Beca stumbled forwards as Stacie shoved her, finally tearing her eyes away from Chloe to realize that the rest of the group was standing around them. “Are you two okay or should we just leave you here?”

 

“Bite me, Conrad,” Beca spat, breath catching as Chloe brushed by her to grab her coat from the table. They hung in the back as the group left the club, Chloe’s hand silently slipping into Beca’s until they climbed into the limo.

* * *

 

She’d gone too far, and she knew it. It had been a spontaneous decision, to be honest, because she’d really known nothing about the bachelorette party. Who would have thought that Stacie could find some weird moose flannel themed strip club in Nowhere, Maine, and who would have thought that Chloe could hijack the playlist with nothing more than a wink and a smile to the sketchy, balding DJ (okay, so maybe that wasn’t too surprising)?

 

So while she’d certainly gotten her desired effect of a melting, breaking Beca Mitchell below her, they hadn’t spoken since they’d gotten into the limo. It was almost as if some spell had broken, some magical period where Chloe had gotten the girl, acted out her wild fantasy, and would ride off into the sunset.

 

In fact, Beca’s only words had been over a hug to Cynthia Rose, wishing her goodnight, and through a brief phone call to Jesse to make sure that Emily was okay and taken care of. The rest of the Bellas had disappeared during this call, waving as they stumbled away to their separate rooms while Chloe’s eyes flitted from the floor to Beca when she thought she wasn’t looking.

 

Once Beca had hung up, she’d started off to their room, Chloe cautiously lagging behind. Beca opened the door, slipping inside and barely holding it open long enough for Chloe to fit through before walking into the bedroom and dropping her phone and wallet on the floor.

 

“Do you want to use the bathroom first?” It was flat and dull, almost making Chloe wish for any sort of characteristic Beca Mitchell snark.

 

“Um, yeah. Sure. Thanks.” Chloe grabbed her tshirt off her bed, swallowing heavily and not even bothering to look Beca’s way before darting into the bathroom and closing the door behind her.

 

She didn’t know what she’d been thinking. Of course Beca would freak out if someone essentially attempted to have clothed sex with her in public right after she’d declared some sort of feelings. Chloe generally considered herself to be an emotionally intelligent human being, but some combination of alcohol, adrenaline, and pure, unbridled longing had pushed her over the brink into truly idiotic territory.

 

So Chloe ignored the pain when she jabbed her toothbrush hardily into the inside of her cheek, glad that the running water from the sink was covering a sob that came from some combination of physical or emotional injury. It was just one more day, and then they could sort this all out from Beca’s comfort zone of distance and walls and whatever. She’d fix it, and she’d listen this time, and actually read the situation, and not let her baser instincts win out.

 

Not even bothering to wash off her makeup, Chloe flipped off the light in the bathroom, letting out a deep breath before stepping around the corner. “All right, it’s all you, Becs. Sorry that my toothpaste kind of ex—“

 

And she couldn’t move. Lit only by traces of moonlight slipping through the curtains, Beca Mitchell stood in front of her, clad in only a flannel shirt, held together barely by a single button, one finger beckoning Chloe towards her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this morning, I googled ‘how to give a lapdance,’ soon followed by ‘concussion testing protocols.’ I hope the NSA enjoyed watching. I apologize if that was the least sexy lapdance ever written but I did what I could, okay? Hope y’all enjoyed it. Come yell at me over on Tumblr at bicamitchell.
> 
> P.S. SO MUCH STAUBREY FIC BACKSTORY TO THIS CHAPTER


	9. Sugar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A simple transition between the bachelorette party and the day of the wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I hit ultimate trash levels last chapter (it’s pretty damn challenging to sit there and write a lap dance with a straight face and to say that I succeeded would be a lie [I also ruined Trap Queen for myself so]). I may outdo myself here, but I feel like y’all have earned it after eight chapters (EIGHT CHAPTERS OF UST WADDUP I HAVE SOME SELF-CONTROL MAYBE). Anyways. Hope whatever this nonsense is has been worth the wait. Enjoy.

Chloe Beale loved romantic clichés. There was a certain part of her that was convinced that first kisses should always be in the rain, every couple had to have _their_ song, and the only proper way to stop someone when they were rambling on nervously was with your mouth. Okay, so Chloe was sometimes the walking embodiment of an old Taylor Swift song.

 

This was, of course, a bit at odds with the fact that Chloe had just given her best friend a lap dance less than an hour ago. And, up to the point that she’d rounded the corner from the bathroom, a film of toothpaste still across her teeth, she was convinced that the deviation from this Swift-ian behavior had led to some serious issues for her and her potential paramour. This was all before she’d seen Beca Mitchell, clad in a flannel and seemingly nothing else, standing in front of her, hand beckoning Chloe closer.

 

It seemed to be one of Chloe’s shirts, falling a bit loosely on Beca and hanging down to her mid-thigh while slipping down one shoulder, revealing a collarbone still lightly marked in a manner visible even in the traces of moonlight sneaking through the curtains. Lean legs, slightly toned from years of reluctant cardio, stretched to the floor below, and Chloe would have laughed when she noted that Beca’s toes were tapping restlessly against the carpet if she hadn’t been too distracted by those absurdly long fingers repeatedly furling and unfurling in her direction.

 

So maybe Chloe had had a few too many fantasies about her best friend in the past few years, ranging from completely accidental dreams about nervous first kisses to wholly distracting daydreams in the middle of Bellas rehearsals after watching Beca work too long at a soundboard, hands automatically and precisely tuning delicate dials. As if listening to Beca’s mixes weren’t enough to get Chloe’s toner going, watching her make them took things to a whole new level, and she’d be lying if she said that the possibilities that arose from Beca’s DJ dexterity hadn’t entered into her a mind every so often.

 

But if those fingers weren’t enough alone to banish all thoughts of anything outside that hotel room from Chloe’s head, the look on Beca’s face certainly did it. And it wasn’t pure sex or lust or anything like she’d seen at the strip club, Beca panting and letting moans slip from her lips that Chloe was sure she’d thought she’d managed to cover up. That was all there for sure; Beca had remained relatively flushed ever since they’d left, but Chloe had chalked that all up to embarrassment and discomfort. However, this was something more, some strange combination of physical need mixed with all those times Beca had looked at Chloe just a moment too long, whether from across a party underneath Jesse’s arm, after a performance as they hoisted another trophy, or up from Chloe’s shoulder that night while watching the Bachelorette. It was trust, wordless affection, and safety.

 

Chloe took a cautious step forwards, half convinced that Beca was some sort of desert mirage and would keep moving backwards as she advanced, but Beca simply dropped her arm as Chloe drew closer, hands falling to nervously pull at the bottom of her flannel. “Beca?”

 

And Chloe really would have to ask at some point whether the famous ‘Mitchell Move’ was purposeful or whether Beca just accidentally undressed Chloe with her eyes, dragging her eyes slowly up her body while chewing her bottom lip in a manner that Chloe planned to emulate as soon as possible. “Hey Chlo,” Beca said quietly. “I borrowed one of your shirts, if that’s okay.”

 

“I think I could make an exception this time.” Chloe carefully took a few more steps forwards, wishing that she was wearing something sexier than her classic sleeping outfit of spandex shorts and one of Amy’s old shirts, especially as she caught sight of the lacy black bra peeking out from beneath the edge of Beca’s stolen shirt. Beca’s eyes met her own as Chloe drew within about a foot of her, pausing to run her thumb up the placket of the shirt, resting on the single remaining fastened button.

 

“I mean,” Beca managed, breath catching in her throat as Chloe’s finger traced against bare skin. “I can get it back to you if there’s really a problem.”

 

Chloe slipped her index finger lightly to the side, the last button giving way without much of a fight. Against her baser instincts, Chloe’s eyes remained locked onto Beca’s face, even as the DJ’s eyes dropped to the floor, still and silent as if she was just waiting for Chloe to make some sort of decision.

 

Chloe’s right hand slid underneath the fabric of the shirt, moving over Beca’s bra to splay her fingers underneath across her rib cage, rising under Chloe’s fingers as Beca’s breathing hitched at the contact. Her free hand moved to thread in Beca’s hair, tilting her head up and silently pleading for her gaze. It took Beca a moment, but dark blue eyes met Chloe’s baby blues, and Beca closed the distance between their lips, catching Chloe’s relieved gasp and slipping her tongue between her parted lips.

 

Her grip unconsciously tightening around the younger girl’s torso, Chloe felt her pulse race as Beca’s hands pushed up her loose shirt, settling on the band of her shorts. Chloe didn’t even notice that one had slid around her body until fingers ghosted over her abdomen, sparks racing out from the point of contact and circling her stomach to meet with those from her back. As Beca’s hand continued its journey up Chloe’s front, Chloe caught Beca’s lip between her teeth. The brunette pulled back suddenly, Chloe dragging her teeth off a bit more roughly than she’d intended.

 

Beca’s eyes widened in surprise, and Chloe opened her mouth to launch into some stream of apologies. Before the first word could leave her lips, some sort of growl left Beca’s throat, and she pulled Chloe in even closer, stumbling backwards towards the closest bed. Chloe nudged Beca with her hips, sending the brunette falling onto her back with a small bounce on the bed, the shirt falling open as she landed.

 

Chloe stood back with a smirk, hands on her hips and head cocked to the side as her eyes roamed gracelessly up and down Beca’s body. She’d clearly planned for the occasion at some point, because Chloe really hadn’t been in the bathroom long enough for Beca to change, and Beca Mitchell certainly didn’t wear black lacy underwear that matched with her bra on an everyday basis. This only served to emphasize the fact that Beca had always been surprisingly well-endowed for someone her stature, something that Chloe had always appreciated and even commented on a few times, if only to elicit that adorable flush that was so Beca.

 

So maybe Chloe hadn’t been the only one with the mindset of a horny teenager that night, and so she shrugged before pulling her own shirt off her body, hanging it off one finger to the side of her body and reveling as Beca’s jaw dropped wide open. “Jesus, Chlo,” Beca groaned, propping herself up on her elbows.

 

“I wasn’t prepared with the lingerie, but I figured I’d improvise?”

 

“Y-yeah.” Beca nodded enthusiastically, eyes flitting across Chloe’s chest. “I think you’re—uh—doing that pretty well. A+ improvisation.”

 

Chloe let the shirt fall off her finger with a sigh, slowly walking forwards to stand at the edge of the bed between Beca’s legs. The brunette stared at her expectantly, eyebrow rising in concern. Chloe leaned down, hand falling onto Beca’s left knee. “I just…” She chuckled ruefully, looking away as she failed to form any semblance of a sentence until she felt Beca’s hand running up her arm.

 

“Chlo. Don’t worry. Just because we’re—“ Beca looked around the darkened room quickly “—here doesn’t mean that I’m not still me. That’s not gonna change.” She strained upwards, bringing her lips lightly to Chloe’s. “I’m all in if you are.”

 

And it was what Chloe needed to hear. Yeah, they’d talked before, but there was a part of Chloe that always believed that Beca had let her get away with so many things over the years just because she didn’t really know how to handle Chloe’s displays of emotion. For all she knew, Beca could’ve been absolutely overwhelmed and terrified by the fact that Chloe had chosen to move to the same city as her without discussing it with her at all, and was only waiting for the right opportunity to back out, run away, keep them at friendship if Chloe was lucky. But here she was, running her thumb up and down Chloe’s arm as she always had to calm her, tears or not, looking her in the eyes as if this was all she’d ever wanted. Yeah, Chloe had always managed to separate sex and romance before in most cases, but Beca’s eyes sure as hell weren’t.

 

So Chloe pressed her lips against Beca’s, holding them still and soft until she felt Beca’s fingers digging into the back of her shoulders. “Hey Chlo?” Chloe pulled back to see that familiar furrow between Beca’s brow. “I know I look pretty damn good like this, but not all of us have your abs and I’m kind of straining here.”

 

Chloe rolled her eyes, shrugging Beca’s hands off her shoulders and shoving her backwards back into the bed before straddling her hips. “I think you’re just using that as an excuse there, Becs,” she purred, placing feather-light kisses down Beca’s jaw and relishing in the shiver she felt beneath her. “I think I got to you back in that club.”

 

“What tipped you off?” Beca managed to slip a certain sarcastic note into her voice despite its strained pitch as Chloe’s right hand landed on her stomach, fingers lazily running over her navel.

 

“Well, I’m not sure if you noticed, but you’re not great at hiding your moans.” Chloe lips moved down Beca’s neck, fighting back a laugh as the brunette tried to refute her statement. She was interrupted as Chloe nipped at her earlobe, drawing forth a deep, desperate keen as Beca’s back arched beneath her. Chloe placed her mouth right up against Beca’s ear, letting the sound of nothing but their own labored breaths fill the room. “But I never said I was complaining. I think it’s hot.”

 

And Beca’s hands were gripping her hips, guiding Chloe’s body back over her center. Chloe was in no mood to protest, particularly as one of Beca’s hands moved to grab her ass, squeezing experimentally as Chloe felt her body roll into Beca automatically. “Do you have any idea how fucking hard it was to just sit there?” Beca hissed, her other hand moving up Chloe’s bare back, short nails digging in against her spine. “People should not be able to move like that.”

 

Chloe’s skin was on fire, need pouring through every inch of her body as Beca’s hand slipped around to her chest. She bit back a gasp, Beca’s thumb landing on sensitive skin, and Chloe could have let Beca continue right then and there, exploring and testing her and figuring out limits and buttons that even Chloe herself didn’t know how to press. But she’d spent four years thinking of everything she wanted to do to Beca, and she wasn’t going to let this chance go to waste by being selfish first.

 

She pulled herself up on her knees, pinning Beca’s body to the bed with one hand still on her abdomen as the other gripped Beca’s wrist. Beca’s respondent glare fell somewhere between confusion and frustration, the hand against Chloe’s spine stilling with Beca’s palm on the waistband of her shorts.

 

Chloe held Beca’s gaze for a painfully long moment, fingers splayed across her stomach curling and relaxing every few seconds. She reveled in the subtle shivers coming from Beca’s body beneath her at the slightest touch, her eyes almost black even as the curtains stirred with the breeze outside, allowing moonlight to filter through. Finally, Beca opened her mouth to speak, and Chloe’s hand darted from her wrist to rest one finger against her lips.

 

“You really don’t want me to move like that?” Chloe murmured, leaning down slightly to press a kiss to Beca’s neck, light and brief in that place that had extracted so many moans from Beca before. One hand moved to tangle in Beca’s hair as her lips and tongue traced patterns down towards her collarbone. The other one crawled upwards, moving around Beca’s body until Chloe’s fingers met the clasp of Beca’s bra.

 

Nervous fingers fumbled for a bit longer than she’d care to admit, but Beca didn’t seem to be in any position to complain as Chloe nipped at her clavicle, body shifting slowly downwards as the brunette’s chest heaved below her. Breathing as quiet a sigh of relief as she could manage, Chloe pushed herself up by her newly freed arm, grinding her hips against Beca’s stomach.

 

“ _Chloe._ ” And Chloe had heard her name many times during sex before, whether as a high pitched moan from that soccer girl in her sophomore year lit class or grunted by Tom as he held her up against the wall, but Chloe had never experienced anything near to this. It was like a prayer, some supplication both to its subject for relief and a thanks to whatever higher power Beca believed in, needy and wondrous and so damn hot.

 

Chloe experimentally rolled her body again, Beca pulling flush against her with fingers digging in against her back. “That’s what I thought,” she whispered, easily shrugging off Beca’s half-conscious hands and slipping her bra straps down loose arms.

 

So yes, maybe she had to take a moment to resettle herself when she’d finally pulled off Beca’s bra, because Chloe Beale was shamelessly a boob man, but she was snapped out of her admiring pause as the smirk threatened to return to Beca’s face. Just as her eyes opened and her lip began to quirk, Chloe indelicately ran her fingers across Beca’s chest, grinning as a string of curses poured from Beca’s mouth as Chloe kissed her way between her breasts, hands dragging roughly across Beca’s sides as she went.

 

And it wasn’t the classiest thing she’d ever done, but again, four years of waiting. Chloe trapped the lacy band of Beca’s underwear with her teeth and crawled down between her legs, thigh muscles tightening against her as Beca gasped and bucked her hips upwards. Chloe’s feet hit the floor at the bottom of the bed, and she pulled the lacy garment off the rest of the way with her fingers, dropping it with a sigh before climbing back up between Beca’s legs, resting one hand to the side of her hips. 

 

The remaining hand trailed up Beca’s inner thigh, Chloe’s mouth mimicking the pattern on Beca’s other leg, nipping every so often on her path. Beca was shaking uncontrollably, every inch of her body squirming to get impossibly closer to Chloe, who was already having a hard enough time fighting the avid desire in her own core that wanted nothing more than to give Beca exactly what she wanted, rough and hard and fast. But it’d be over too soon, and it needed to be perfect.

 

Chloe swallowed heavily, eyes looking up for Beca’s but finding the younger girl’s head pressed back against the pillows, eyes shut and mouth barely ajar as she seemed to be struggling to even draw breath, fingers stretched across the crumpled sheets beneath her. She could feel the heat rising off Beca’s body as she leaned down to press her lips against Beca’s hipbone, the hand on her legs dragging slowly towards her center as the rest of Chloe remained stilled.

 

“Chloe, _please_.” The supplicant tone was back, every small syllable drawn out until they were swallowed up in a deep groan as the tips of Chloe’s fingers slipped over Beca’s folds. And damn if she hadn’t made her wait long enough, Chloe fighting back a gasp of her own as she felt exactly just how much she’d messed with Beca’s head. She pressed her thumb against Beca’s clit, Beca’s body rolling into her with a stream of inarticulate syllables from above as Chloe began to rub slow circles, kissing her way down from Beca’s navel.

 

And maybe it wasn’t ladylike or polite or whatever as Chloe immediately slid two fingers into Beca’s core, but she could not care less as the other girl clenched around her, one hand tangling in Chloe’s hair as she slowly drew her wrist back with a subtle curl. When the heel of her hand met Beca’s clit, she cried out.

 

Just as Chloe started to pull back to check whether anything was wrong, the fingers in her hair tightened, dragging her back down. “Don’t you _dare_ ,” Beca hissed, barely managing the three short syllables between gasps. Chloe responded by replacing her thumb with her mouth, wrist rocking back and forth until a curl of her fingers and a flattened press of her tongue pushed Beca’s writhing body upwards, one hand twisting in Chloe’s hair as the other left marks in her shoulder, hungry and scraping and perfect.

 

Chloe kissed back up Beca’s body as she stilled, her hands drawing the most soothing lines she could manage over slick skin. She paused, lips less than an inch away from Beca’s own, waiting for her eyes, and whispering the girl’s name over and over.

 

In response, Beca closed the space between them, lips slipping gently amidst Chloe’s own as her hands slid lightly up her back. “I think you killed me,” Beca said, voice rough. She placed a light kiss on Chloe’s shoulder before falling back against the pillows. “Sorry if I hurt you or anything. I—um…got caught up?”

 

Chloe snorted, nuzzling her nose into Beca’s forehead. “It’s all right. Not your fault that I’m just that good.”

 

And suddenly the hands gently massaging circles against her heated skin were slipping into the waistband of her shorts, rough and fast and dexterous as Beca’s head curled up. “That kind of sounds like a challenge, Beale.”

 

Shrugging as well as she could while one hand slid surprisingly roughly across her ass and up one leg, Chloe attempted a cocky smile. “What are you gonna do about it?”

 

She thought for a moment that Beca had either been too shocked or too annoyed to put up with her shit for a moment longer, as the hand beneath her shorts that had been moving painfully closer to where she wanted it was gone. Chloe couldn’t help herself as she moved against Beca’s body, desperate for any sort of relief and preparing for some sort of mocking remark about lady jams or the prefix ‘aca’ placed anywhere.

 

What she was not expecting was two hands finally ripping her shorts down by the waistband and dragging her hips forwards before Beca’s mouth slipped between her thighs. Chloe cried out, thanking every painful hour of dancing over the years for the muscles that somehow kept her upright as Beca’s tongue experimentally grazed across her again.

 

And Chloe Beale did not swear much, because she was a Southern girl raised right (cotillion and all, even if she didn’t remember most of it after some particularly strong punch), but she couldn’t think of any words besides ‘fuck’ and ‘please’ as Beca’s fingers slid between her legs. Chloe’s body began a steady rocking motion, riding Beca’s hand like she’d done to her body back in the strip club, low and slow and dirty, shamelessly steering Beca precisely to where she needed her.

 

Beneath Chloe, Beca was watching her move with some mix of arousal and wonder, mouth falling fully ajar when she shifted her wrist slightly towards her, resulting in an honest-to-god scream ripping from Chloe’s throat. “You really weren’t kidding about the not holding back thing, were you?”

 

“Beca Mitchell,” Chloe managed over gasps. “This is not the _fucking_ time for jokes.”

 

Whether it was due to her moan as Beca figured out exactly how to employ her thumb or the agony in Chloe’s eyes, Beca shut up, instead kissing the inside of Chloe’s endlessly rolling thigh and bringing her hand up to meet Chloe’s body on each thrust. And Chloe really tried, shutting her eyes as tightly as she could to avoid those beneath her, but it was Beca’s free hand gently tracing against her hipbone that brought her over the edge, sobbing out Beca’s name as she slowed and slumped against her.

 

Head resting on Beca’s shoulder, Chloe felt Beca nuzzle her cheek into her, hand falling onto Chloe’s shoulder. “I’m here.” She didn’t stop repeating it until Chloe rolled over onto her arm, ignoring Beca’s yelp as she snuggled up into her shoulder.

 

“Wow.” It was midway between a sigh and a chuckle, and Chloe felt Beca snort against her hair.

 

“Yeah,” Beca said with a chuckle. “Not your fault that I’m just that good.”

 

Chloe’s respondent shove was weak, both from exhaustion and a desire to not even slightly move from where she lay, and Beca didn’t even bother to readjust herself. “Okay, but really, Becs. _Wow_.”

 

“Guess I could’ve picked worse things to be a natural at?”

 

“Oh yeah,” Chloe replied with an enthusiastic nod. “I am all for this. 100% aca-awesome.”

 

Beca groaned, squeezing Chloe’s shoulder with her hand trapped under the taller girl’s body. “Don’t you dare bring that aca-nonsense into the bedroom if you ever want any of this again.”

 

Her finger tracing lazy circles around Beca’s navel, Chloe settled back against the pillows. “Like you could resist.”

 

Chloe was already nodding off enough that she missed Beca’s response, closing her eyes as she felt Beca shift to fit against her as she had so many times, safe and like home as always. And that was the funny thing about being in love with your best friend; barely anything had to change, because nearly what you needed was already there. Not that she would complain about these latest developments.

* * *

Beca had certainly woken up to worse sounds than Maroon 5’s ‘Sugar,’ not that she’d ever admit to the fact that she had a secret folder of the band’s remixes hidden in the depths of her laptop, but she had to admit to being confused as to where it was coming from. Reluctantly opening her groggy eyes as the song restarted, she caught sight of Chloe’s phone, perched precariously close to the edge of the table.

 

After a moment of straining that she’d never openly attribute to her short arms, she managed to trap the phone between her fingers with her arm still stuck underneath its owner, jamming her thumb against the screen repeatedly until it finally shut up. With an overdramatic sigh, she dropped it onto the bed next to her before turning over and slipping her arm around Chloe’s waist.

 

Chloe had always been a significantly lighter sleeper than Beca, and she squirmed up against Beca’s body at the contact, hair covering Beca’s face as her head dipped backwards. But Beca couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed, simply blowing air out of her nose to move a few strands before pressing a kiss to the back of Chloe’s head.

 

“What time is it?” It was so quiet that Beca almost missed it, and she only released her hand from Chloe’s torso when her captive repeated it again.

 

Picking up the phone, she dropped it onto Chloe’s other side after glancing at the screen. “7:30. Why the hell is your alarm set for 7:30?”

 

Chloe rolled until her eyes met Beca’s, makeup from the night before smudged beneath her lashes. “Well, we may have gotten a bit distracted,” she mused. “But I _think_ we’re here for some purpose other than really fantastic sex.”

 

Beca’s bottom lip jutted forwards in a pout. “Not enough for you there, Beale?”

 

“You’re absurd.” Chloe placed a kiss on the tip of Beca’s nose before sitting up in bed. “Wasn’t it you who was all concerned about this drawing attention from Cynthia Rose’s wedding?”

 

“Yeah,” Beca said, watching intently as Chloe rolled her shoulders slowly backwards. “And I’m still totally here to support her, but still, 7:30?”

 

Catching Beca’s line of sight, Chloe rolled her eyes. “You’re shameless,” she chided lightly, tossing the nearest pillow at Beca’s head.

 

“I can deal with that.” As Chloe climbed out of bed, Beca’s eyes followed the curve of her neck down to her shoulders where long, red marks rose from pale skin, Beca’s desperate handiwork already evident. She crawled up to her knees, clasping her hands around Chloe’s waist before placing a kiss to the bottom of her nail lines from the night before. “Sorry for getting a bit out of hand.”

 

“Please.” Chloe’s hands landed on top of her own with a gentle squeeze. “I think you could probably tell that I wasn’t complaining.”

 

Beca’s stomach rolled, and every part of her just wanted to pull Chloe back onto the rumpled bed, because it _was_ only 7:30, and they could surely make some sort of time if necessary because Chloe obviously needed a matching set of those nail prints on the other shoulder (not to mention a line of bite marks up her thighs like the ones on Beca’s own). And she would’ve liked to pretend that she could draw on the same impulsive spirit from the night before that had led her to stand in front of Chloe in nothing but the redhead’s own flannel and a matching set of bra and underwear that she’d just luckily pulled out of her bag, but claiming that it had been anything other than nervously planned and somehow flawlessly executed would’ve been a lie.

 

While the possibility of ending up living in the same city as and dating Chloe Beale had never really entered Beca’s mind, sex with her best friend had. It had filled Beca’s thoughts pretty much ceaselessly ever since Chloe had brought up ‘experimentation’ at the retreat, and so while Beca knew that simply having no-strings-attached, one-and-done sex with Chloe would probably tear every part of her own self in two, there was a part of her that saw it as really inevitable. So yes, she had done that crunch (or more than one) that Chloe had teased her about earlier, and she’d packed her nicest set of underwear that not even Jesse had ever seen, and she’d been completely thrown off guard when Chloe had told her she’d be in LA.

 

It really should’ve terrified Beca. There was a part of her that just knew that Chloe hadn’t applied anywhere else, and that if UCLA hadn’t worked out, she might’ve just gone to LA anyways, found a job in a dance studio or something, and made it work because that’s just what Chloe Beale did. The Beca Mitchell who had found herself alone at the activities fair, talking to an overly perky redhead, would’ve freaked the fuck out that Chloe had never mentioned anything to her, just assuming that Beca would be totes okay if she followed her wherever she went without any consideration for Beca’s own plans or feelings. But it didn’t, and she didn’t.

 

Maybe she’d really only been thinking about sex with Chloe nonstop since the Lodge at Fallen Leaves, but she had wanted to be with her since that night with the Bachelorette, lying on the couch with her head against Chloe’s shoulder and Cheeto dust on her fingers. It had all just felt right, listening to Chloe talk about her ‘munchkins,’ as she called the campers, Beca complaining about the strange reverse alphabetical combined Dewey Decimal organizational system that one of the interns had come up with for the radio station, and somehow not feeling worried or alone or scared. Jesse had made her laugh, made her smile, and let her forget about the real world every so often, but Chloe had been that part of Beca that made her feel like she didn’t need to forget because she could handle whatever was coming.

 

“And you accuse _me_ of creepy Twilight staring.” Beca realized that her distant musings had not been as subtle as she’d hoped, eyes resting on Chloe’s lips even as her mind was elsewhere.

 

“Please,” Beca said, rolling her eyes. “You just had something on your face.”

 

“What? I know I forgot to take my makeup off, but—oh my god. Is it a zit? Because if I have a zit for the wedding pictures, I swear to g—“

 

Beca finally got to be the one interrupting Chloe’s rambling with a kiss, leaning back triumphantly and waggling her eyebrows as the redhead blinked slowly.

 

“You…are such a nerd.”

 

“Learned from the best, Beale.”

 

“Oh no,” Chloe replied, shaking her head. “Do _not_ place that one on me.” She grabbed Beca by the shoulders as she leaned in again. “I’m going to shower while you look at the checklist in my bag and try to make yourself slightly useful. Okay?”

 

“You’re no fun, “ Beca griped as she dropped down onto the bed.

 

Chloe snorted with laughter, pausing before she stepped into the bathroom to look Beca up and down. “I beg to differ.” With a lascivious wink, she rounded the corner, strains of ‘Trap Queen’ drifting out from the slightly cracked door. 

* * *

Despite Chloe’s best efforts, they still were late making it to the lobby. She’d promised Stacie to be set to go promptly at 8:45, but her hair just hadn’t cooperated, and she’d nearly burned off a strand with the curling iron after Beca had snuck up behind her. The younger girl had sprinted off to the side of the room after Chloe had brandished it at her.

 

Strangely enough, Stacie wasn’t there either when they dashed into the lobby at 8:57, all of the Bellas present minus the bride and her Best Woman. Aubrey was sitting on the arm of a chair, chewing at her thumbnail despite having broken the habit four years ago (with Chloe’s help and about fifteen thousand Band-aids, of course).

 

“Bree, where’s Stacie?” Chloe nearly fell over as Beca, apparently too distracted by the simple act of walking behind Chloe, crashed into her back.

 

“Why does everyone seem to think that I always know where Stacie is?” Aubrey snapped. “I’m not her keeper, I’m not her mother. You know what, I’m not even her Bella captain anymore! So why don’t you all stop asking me?”

 

The room was silent until Ashley coughed uncomfortably. “I mean, you are her roommate?”

 

Aubrey nodded curtly. “Right. Well, she was gone before I woke up.”

 

And the group seemed to accept it, even as Beca surveyed Aubrey suspiciously. Chloe, on the other hand, was watching Emily, who shifted from one foot to the other increasingly uncomfortably under Chloe’s gaze. “Anything you want to tell us, Em?”

 

“Me?” Her eyes darted back and forth between Chloe and the ground, a nervous smile spreading across her face. “Nothing at all. Nope. All fine. I know nothing.”

 

“Emily?”

 

For both of their sakes, Emily was saved the embarrassment of having to respond to Beca, who seemed just as horrified by the mom tone that had come out of her mouth. The hotel doors slid open, and an unmistakable shout sounded throughout the lobby.

 

“Guess who’s back and better than ever?” Flanked by Flo on one side and Stacie on the other, Amy struck a pose before the group, hands dramatically sticking out from her hips. She surveyed the silently stunned girls before her, eyes tracking across the group until they rested on Beca and Chloe.

 

Beca’s gulp was audible as Amy strode forwards until she was barely a foot away from them. “So, have you two banged yet?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am trash. I am human detritus. Lock me up and throw away the key. I don’t know if I managed to toe the line between M and E or not, but here we are. YOLO and all that. Come yell at me at bicamitchell, because trust me, I know just how much I need to stop.


	10. It Was Always You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter that officially begins the final quarter of this nonsense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh em aca-gee, a chapter I don’t begin by talking about how trashy I am (except I kind of just did so failed that). Dear children, I will not be ruining any songs for you this chapter. Take it as you may. But we’re nearing the home stretch, the ending, Le Grand Fromage, and that means…who the hell knows what that means? P.S. I had to go check my 8tracks playlist for this fic to remember what this chapter was supposed to be called. So yeah. Anyways. Enjoy. P.P.S. I’m sorry for the delay but I work 12 hour days and then come home and die. So.

Beca knew Chloe as many things. Impossibly gorgeous (duh), secretly brilliant, insanely talented, and probably the most caring human being alive. Cool under pressure? Despite everything Chloe seemed to think, no.

 

While it was Aubrey who had blown chunks all across the audience at Nationals, Beca had witnessed enough Chloe freak-outs over the years to understand the telltale signs. It started with the widening of her eyes (which had always distracted Beca a bit from the impending danger because who _actually_ has eyes that blue), followed by some sort of quivering quirk of her mouth, and 100% confirmed with the fisting of Chloe’s hands at her sides.

 

Chloe was already on Stage Two when Beca dared a glance up at her. Bottom lip jutting to the left and stuck between her teeth (again, distracting), Chloe’s eyes flitted desperately over to Beca. This had been the way they’d always worked; Chloe would plan ahead, making sure everything was set to run smoothly and to perfection, and Beca would step in to pick up the pieces if anything fell apart while Chloe did her best to not actually cry on stage. Chloe was the engineer, Beca was the mechanic.

 

However, Beca was not particularly prepared to handle the ‘my all-too-honest friend has somehow appeared out of the blue from Australia and deduced that my best friend and I had fucking awesome sex like seven hours ago and I can’t tell whether she’s joking or not’ scenario. These ultimate shit show moments were generally saved through the expedient intervention of Stacie, who, on one occasion, had literally flashed an on-coming car on the highway to get them to stop when the Bellas’ bus had broken down on the way to Sectionals and no one had cell service to contact AAA.

 

Stacie didn’t really seem to be the best person to ask at this moment either. Though she’d backed off a little bit on figuring out the bet, Beca still wanted any revelation regarding her and Chloe to be on her own terms. ‘Drunk at the reception’ Stacie might not think that this secret was one that really needed to be kept. On top of this, Stacie looked somewhere between ‘I’m about to pass out’ exhausted and too stressed to even be believed, and the combination of the complete avoidance of eye contact with Aubrey that was currently occurring and the events of the night before (because Beca had somehow managed to take all of a split second to look over at the pair to her left) had Beca leaning more towards the accidental make out scenario between Aubrey and Stacie as the reason for their strange behavior.

 

So the resulting awkwardness between the two primary planners of the wedding that was happening today was going to keep things tricky no matter how Beca chose to respond here. And at this point she’d been looking back and forth between Chloe and Amy for a solid twenty seconds, and even Emily was starting to look a bit uncomfortable. Forcing a smile onto her face, Beca stepped forward and punched Amy in the arm. Okay, maybe it was a bit harder than was friendly, but she was having an interesting morning all of an hour in.

 

“Amy,” she said with a weak chuckle. “Glad to see post-grad life hasn’t changed you at all.”

 

Amy’s eyebrow shot up, and she seemed to be waiting for Beca to clarify or apologize or mount Chloe right then and there. Yes, Beca was tempted to work with some combination of the latter two, but Chloe had finally recovered some control of her brain, and was crushing Amy with a hug before Beca could respond.

 

“How are you even here?” And thankfully, the rest of the Bellas snapped out of their ‘Bloe’ reverie and followed Chloe’s lead, surrounding Amy and Flo with enough questions and embraces that Beca could slip out of the group and stand beside Stacie.

 

“So how long have you known about this?” Beca asked, voice low.

 

Stacie jumped, mind clearly elsewhere as she glanced down at Beca before shrugging with as much nonchalance as she could manage. “Amy’s relatively predictable. You didn’t really think she was going to miss an opportunity to make a grand entrance?”

 

“How the hell did she get Flo here, though?”

 

The gymnast was currently sandwiched between Jessica and Ashley, talking enthusiastically about what sounded like an anniversary party or something of the ilk. To be honest, none of them had really expected to see much of Flo after graduation. Even though Cynthia Rose had extended the invitation, a Facebook message from Flo had confirmed that she had, in fact, been deported from the country.

 

“Flo got some ridiculous job with J.P. Morgan,” Stacie said. “3.9 GPA with Business and Math Degrees probably helped. Her work Visa doesn’t kick in for a couple weeks, though, so this is just some crazy-ass Amy magic.”

 

Beca nodded appreciatively as Chloe and Flo launched into an extensive conversation in Spanish. So maybe she’d missed these crazy nerds over the past few months, and actually having them all back together was the best thing that had happened to her in a while. Well, the second best thing, if she were to be completely honest and selfish.

 

Even Aubrey had joined in the pig-pile; she and Amy had always had some strange sort of respect for each other, or perhaps a mutually shared fear. There were likely few things in the world more terrifying than wrestling crocodiles and dingoes simultaneously, but Aubrey Posen was sure to be one of them.

 

“All right, all right!” Amy shouted over the chattering. “I know you all missed me, because, let’s face it, who wouldn’t, but the girls need some room to breathe.”

 

Stacie snorted at Beca’s right, pulling her phone out of the back pocket of her shorts. “No offense to Amy’s boobs, but we do kinda have somewhere to be regardless. White dress, black tuxes, all that?”

 

She ushered them towards the door, tagging behind with Amy. “I hope you know I still want my iPad tux.”

 

“Please, that was expensive.” 

* * *

 

Emily, Jessica, and Ashley piled into the back of the truck, the first of the three surprisingly peppy for someone who’d had to almost be carried home the night before. There was a certain part of Chloe that expected that Emily Junk would never get the ability to be hungover, too much energy and enthusiasm to protect herself. But she knew that people had likely said similar things about her in the past, and morning runs post-tequila had admittedly gotten a bit more challenging in her mid-twenties.

 

Jessica and Ashley were dragging as well, matching sunglasses pressed down over their eyes and nodding in response to the endless stream of unfiltered consciousness flowing out of Emily’s mouth. Beca, on the other hand, was actually turned around and doing her best to uncharacteristically engage in conversation, normally one to slump down in her seat and busy herself with the music for the drive. Chloe even tested her by switching Beca’s iPod to the secret One Direction playlist that she’d only learned about at the end of last year (Chloe had of course spent the next week breaking into ‘Kiss You’ or ‘Steal My Girl’ every time she got the chance).

 

But Beca’s smile wouldn’t be broken, and she only looked away from Emily on occasion to beam up at Chloe, holding her gaze long enough at one point that Jessica had to scream “cow!” to stop them from crashing into one sauntering across the road. The two inseparable Bellas shared a knowing eye roll before leaning back into each other as Emily launched into a story about the time she tried to ride a cow in Utah on a family vacation.

 

“Cow tipping too mainstream for you, Em?” Beca asked with a smirk.

 

“Doesn’t that kill them or something?” Jessica sat up, brow furrowed.

 

Chloe let out a sigh, shaking her head. “That’s an urban legend. Cows don’t actually sleep standing up.”

 

“You’re ruining a classic badass activity, Beale,” Beca said, turning to face the front. Unshaken by the interruption, Emily continued, Ashley groaning and pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head as she listened. “But I guess you really do have that farm girl know-how, huh?”

 

It was lower and whispered into Chloe’s ear, and her grip tightened on the wheel as she tried to keep herself from squirming. There was a certain part of her that had had enough of being the one blushing like an embarrassed idiot, so Chloe glanced back quickly over her shoulder before leaning in towards Beca, letting her breath ghost hot against the back of the brunette’s neck. “I mean, I could show you later. Tied-up tshirt, cowboy boots, not much else?”

 

Beca doubled over coughing, and Chloe sat back up triumphantly, easing into the parking lot behind Stacie’s car. It was still early, but a limo with a set of cans tied to the pipes beneath the vehicle stood waiting by the front of the farm, Bumper, Jesse, and Benji leaning up against it as they talked.

 

Jesse barely made it out alive as Amy caught sight of Bumper, barreling forwards with a shout and pinning him up against the car. “Okay, that’s just getting nasty,” Jesse muttered, walking over towards the assembled Bellas with Benji in tow. “He just got back from down under like a week ago. Man has no self-control.”

 

“In his defense, I think Amy tackled him,” Benji responded, turning back to take a look. “Nope. Okay, no self-control.” Emily skipped forward, and the two took a very awkwardly adorable moment of maneuvering before she kissed him on the cheek.

 

“Did we beat everyone here?” Stacie shut the trunk of her car after she handed the last of the boxes in it to Aubrey, glancing completely unfazed over Amy, who had Bumper’s legs wrapped around her at that moment.

 

Jesse responded by pointing to a cadre of cars emblazoned with ‘Zeta’ bumper stickers, one in the middle that Chloe assumed to be Hayley’s covered in a white veil. “They were here about an hour ago. Something about beauty rest being redundant in their cases?”

 

Aubrey scoffed, shifting the boxes onto one hip. “As if any of them could get into the Bellas.”

 

“Are you forgetting that we were so desperate for members at one point that I basically had to be dragged to audition?” Beca asked with a laugh.

 

“Dragged is one term for it.” Chloe couldn’t stop the words before they came out of her mouth, and Beca turned to her slowly, eyes wide. She adopted her most innocent smile in response, reaching over to take a package from Stacie. “But if Aubrey’s determined to win this competition, we should probs get inside.”

 

Leading the group through the front door, Amy and Bumper eventually running in behind them, Stacie surveyed her masterful design with a satisfied sigh as she stepped inside. All of the planning, including all contained in the ridiculous color-coded binder of which Chloe had been sent four different versions, had come to fruition. The room was a soft blue and cream, tasteful and elegant with tables arranged about the room and a soundboard setup on the stage that Beca was surely itching to get her hands on.

 

Although the ceremony would be in an adjacent building, the Zetas, along with Cynthia Rose, were spread about the room, inspecting the names at the place settings as Kelly checked off items in a binder distinctly less expansive than Stacie’s. Aubrey visibly bristled at the collective high-pitched “hey” that greeted them as they entered the room.

 

“Y’all doing okay after last night?” Hayley’s question went to the group, but her eyes rested on Beca and Chloe, twinkling mischievously.

 

“It was a great time,” Beca answered evenly, eyes on Cynthia Rose. The other Bella fought back a laugh at Beca’s deep scowl, nudging her fiancée lightly in the ribs.

 

Kelly came bounding up to Hayley’s side, fixing the group with a wide smile that lingered just a bit too long on Stacie. “Okay, so all hands on deck today, all right? I’m assuming that my lovely counterpart on y’all’s side has a list of tasks to get accomplished so we can get these two hitched and on their way.”

 

Stacie grinned, taking her binder from the top of Aubrey’s stack like she’d been waiting for it all day. After distributing a set of lists that she (or more likely Aubrey) had taken the time to laminate, she leaned over Kelly’s shoulder, hair falling to brush against the blonde’s neck as she peered at her agenda. “I like your color coding,” Stacie murmured, reaching around to turn the page.

 

Turning suddenly so that Stacie’s hands fell from over her shoulder to glance off her chest, Kelly let out a joking gasp. “My my, normally you’d have to buy me dinner first, but I could make an exception.”

 

“ _Okay_ , that is it!” Dropping her list as dramatically as she could manage to the floor, Aubrey lunged forwards, jabbing Kelly in the arm with one finger. “This wedding is not designed to be your personal sex party, are we clear?”

 

“Aubrey, what the hell?” While Kelly had taken a step back (or jumped back about three feet), Stacie stood her ground, placing her binder carefully on the table next to her before turning to face Aubrey. “Can you please relax?”

 

“ _Me?_ ” Aubrey scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You two are the ones basically engaging in a mating ritual in the middle of the room.”

 

Her voice had risen highly enough that the remaining Zetas in the room had started to carefully migrate towards the group, while the Bellas, knowing Aubrey’s propensity for vomiting under duress had fallen back as far as they could without drawing her attention. Beca looked helplessly over at Chloe, who took a deep breath before taking a cautious step in Aubrey’s direction. “Bree, do you want to maybe talk about this elsewhere?”

 

“I don’t really know what’s happening,” Kelly attempted weakly, visibly jumping as Aubrey’s eyes turned towards her.

 

“ _You_ ,” she spat. “You don’t talk.”

 

“Jesus Christ, Aubrey.” Stacie’s hands fell to her hips, jaw set and shoulders forwards. It was the back hallway all over again, and Chloe felt just as confused and out of the loop, seriously regretting not having taken the chance to discuss these developments with Beca beforehand. “She hasn’t done anything.”

 

“Please. She spent all of yesterday undressing you with her eyes, and I’m _sorry_ if I don’t like people staring at my girlfriend like that but I’m not being too unreason—“

 

“ _What?_ ”

 

Chloe wasn’t precisely sure which one of them got there first, but Beca, Cynthia Rose, and Chloe all screamed at the same time. Hayley stood there with an expression that clearly said, “you really didn’t know?” while Jessica, Lilly, Ashley, and Amy looked back and forth between each other, mouths hanging open. Jesse was repeatedly slapping a stunned Benji in the arm as Emily dropped the bags she’d been carrying with a clattering noise that no one seemed to truly register. Beca was the first to turn to Stacie for her reaction, but by the time her eyes got there, Stacie had already taken a long step forwards, placing one hand behind Aubrey’s neck and using the other to tilt her jaw upwards.

 

And it wasn’t a soft or careful kiss by any regards, but they still fit into each other perfectly like they’d done it a thousand times. Which, in retrospect, Chloe guessed they had, and she suddenly understood why Aubrey had needed to come to visit Barden so many times and disappeared when she was supposed to be staying with Chloe, why Stacie had seemingly slowed her revolving door of overnight guests despite the volume of her suitors not slowing down at all, and most of all, why the two had been nervously dancing around each other all week.

 

Chloe couldn’t help the tiny surprised squeak that slipped out of her mouth as Aubrey’s hands slipped around Stacie’s back, pulling their bodies flush as Stacie’s fingers tangled in Aubrey’s hair. There seemed to be no sign of any plans to stop until Bumper and Amy let out a simultaneous wolf whistle, at which Stacie pulled back, hands dropping to her sides and her eyes wide.

 

“Shit.” She spun around to face Cynthia Rose, lip trembling with what looked like guilt as Aubrey stood still, a dazed smile across her lips. “I—I’m so sorry, CR.” With a quick glance at Aubrey, Stacie sprinted out of the room at an astonishing pace for the heels she was wearing.

 

“What was that about?” Emily broke the silence a minute later, Jesse finally giving Benji’s arm a break at the sound of her voice.

 

Chloe looked over to Aubrey, who seemed to be slowly coming out of her Stacie Conrad-fueled daze, brow furrowing as she searched the room for the brunette. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before Cynthia Rose stepped forwards.

 

“I’ll go check on her.” Aubrey watched as Cynthia Rose strode after Stacie’s path, the blonde’s lip starting to quiver. Chloe wrapped her arm around her shoulder, guiding her over to sit on the stage as Beca followed the bride-to-be.

 

“Chlo, you good here?”

 

Chloe nodded. “Go check on Stace,” she said. “I’ll keep her list going as much as I can.”

 

With a brief awkward wave, Beca followed Cynthia Rose and Stacie out of the door. 

* * *

 

Beca Mitchell was not a stranger to the land of confusing feelings regarding people who were supposed to be your wholly platonic friends. In every conversation she’d planned with either Stacie or Aubrey following the events of this week, she was planning to draw upon this fact to explain or defend herself. The revelation that Stacie and Aubrey were apparently girlfriends threw her off a little bit, but she was still determined to help as much as she could, jogging after Cynthia Rose towards wherever the endlessly stressed Stacie had hidden.

 

So perhaps she’d been a bit off with her assumption that any awkwardness between Stacie and Aubrey was due to some unintended kiss, but she’d been in the realm of reality slightly. And it honestly made sense in a strange way; for all of Stacie’s comments about ‘The Hunter’ and her plans to solve all Bella problems through sex, they all knew that she was absolutely brilliant, and Beca had seen enough of her costuming plans to know that Stacie had color-coding organizing schemes that Aubrey Posen herself would appreciate.

 

Beyond the surprising feelings for a friend, however, Beca understood the guilt. A thousand dollars be damned, she just really wanted CR to have the best wedding weekend she possibly could, and spending a good amount of it focused on Chloe’s ass seemed to be counterproductive and was endlessly dividing her attention as it was.

 

Really, it had to be that much worse for Stacie. She and Cynthia Rose had really been similarly close as Beca and Chloe (though clearly in a different manner), and Stacie’s selection as Best Woman had come as no surprise. Through Beca’s conversations with Chloe, she’d gained a relatively solid understanding of precisely the level of insanity that Stacie had hit on planning, sending Chloe endless color-coded Google Docs, binders, and various other media, because Stacie _needed_ her best friend to have a perfect wedding above any other concerns.

 

Beca barely caught the slam of the door behind Cynthia Rose in time to find her and Stacie, sitting in the old bridesmaid changing room against a wall. Stacie’s shoulders were shaking with tears as she murmured apologies to Cynthia Rose over and over. Taking a nervous breath, Beca stepped quietly into the room as best she could.

 

“I really didn’t want to mess things up,” Stacie rambled, hands wringing in her lap. “And I just went about it so wrong. Like of course Aubrey was going to freak out and then I just had to take it too far in the other direction and…Jesus Christ, I can be so fucking stupid sometimes.” She let out a quiet scoff, shaking her head. “I swear, sometimes it’s easier for everyone to just think you’re the dumb hot girl. You certainly get away with a hell of a lot more.”

 

Dropping into a squat next to Stacie’s knee opposite from Cynthia Rose, Beca gave her a quick acknowledging smile before patting Stacie’s leg in a manner that she really meant to be comforting but was probably just awkward. “I don’t think you really fucked anything up, Stace,” Beca said. “Surprised everyone a hell of a lot, yeah.”

 

Stacie shook her head with a rueful laugh as Cynthia Rose gave her knee a quick squeeze. “Speaking as the Bella of the ball—just go with it, Mitchell—I think I really get to decide if anything’s screwed up, right?”

 

“I _planned_ this whole shindig,” Stacie muttered, dodging a light swat from Cynthia Rose. “Which, if we’re being real, makes it even worse that I did what I did. Maybe there’s something to be studied regarding self-destructive tendencies there?”

 

“Okay, don’t hide your bullshit self-deprecation in your psychobabble nonsense that you know none of us are gonna get.” Stacie opened her mouth to protest, only to find it covered by Cynthia Rose’s hand. “On top of that, we all know that your over-controlling ass sure as hell planned everything out well enough that you could die, Aubrey could stress-vomit across the room, and Beca and Jesse could start having sex in the aisle as the wedding march played and you’d have enough contingency plans in place that we’d be fine.”

 

It was only through great effort that Beca managed to cover a strangled cough, even as she felt the color rising in her face. Thankfully, CR had bigger fish to fry at that moment as Stacie started attempting to pry her hand off her mouth.

 

When CR relented, Stacie allowed the ghost of a smirk to cross her lips. “Well, there _may_ be a section in the binder labeled ‘Disaster Plans.’ Most of them are related to Beca.”

 

“Hey!”

 

“Not my fault that you like to improvise, Becs.”

 

“Your girlfriend complain to you about that?” Beca asked, eyebrows raised.

 

Shrugging, Stacie ran a finger delicately under her eye to wipe off the running mascara. “It’s a fact,” she said. “And Aubrey doesn’t hate _all_ improvisations.”

 

“Oh fuck off, Stacie,” Beca groaned.

 

“Hey, just because you’re sexually frustrated with a boyfriend who wants to bang Alfred Hitchcock doesn’t mean that the rest of us aren’t allowed to get some,” Cynthia Rose responded, accepting a high five from Stacie. “But. Wanna tell us how even I didn’t know about that?”

 

Stacie gave her best friend a brief apologetic grin. “I mean, we weren’t actually _together_ until the Lodge. But did you guys really think she cared enough about a capella to come back and celebrate nearly all of our wins at Barden?”

 

“This _is_ Aubrey Posen we’re talking about,” Beca said.

 

“Be nice.” Beca finally sat fully down in an attempt to try and cover up how she’d nearly fell flat on her ass from a light kick sent her way by Stacie. “But she had enough of her own shit going on that the Bellas weren’t that much on her mind. Though I guess she always sold it as stress relief?”

 

“So wait,” Cynthia Rose said slowly. “How long was this going on?”

 

“Um.” Stacie quirked her mouth to one side, eyebrows furrowing thoughtfully. “Well, we first actually hooked up after Nationals.”

 

“I _knew_ you weren’t off sleeping your way through that team that won the Voice or whatever!” Beca grinned triumphantly as Cynthia Rose waggled her eyebrows up and down.

 

“Hey, it was definitely on my plan for the night,” Stacie argued. “But uh, yeah. Kind of consistently, or as much as we could manage after that. Besides that, she really helped me out with med school plans and everything.”

 

“So the Hunter’s been dormant for a bit then?”

 

Stacie pursed her lips. “I do have some degree of self-control, Beca,” she said. “But I mean. Some people are worth it.”

 

Beca couldn’t help but nod there, ignoring Cynthia Rose’s inquisitive stare boring into the side of her head. She knew that glassy, faraway look in Stacie’s eyes; she’d seen it as Benji and Emily stood far to close to each other for everyone’s comfort, when Cynthia Rose and Hayley managed a quick moment away from Stacie and Aubrey’s shouting, and, most likely, on her own face as she watched Chloe do something as simple as checking off a list or rearranging the place settings because they messed with the proper ‘aesthetic.’

 

“And here I am again drawing the attention away from you a few hours before your wedding,” Stacie said, shaking her head. “Sorry that I’m kind of the worst Best Woman ever.”

 

“It’s a made-up title anyways.” Cynthia Rose stood up, offering her hand to Stacie. “But you’re killing it.”

 

Beca followed suit, scrambling to her feet with only a slight stumble. “It could be made official,” she said. “Make a business plan to go with Flower Power and all?”

 

“You may have the makings of more than just a creative brain in you yet, Mitchell.” Stacie sighed, turning to Cynthia Rose. “Now after I’ve made everything incredibly dramatic, want to go see if I can give you a halfway-decent wedding?”

 

Cynthia Rose laughed, linking arms with Stacie. “Please,” she replied. “I’m getting married to my dream girl with all my best friends there. The other details don’t really matter.”

 

And it struck Beca in that same way that so many other things had, and she really wanted nothing more than to go back out there and grab Chloe’s hand and scream to the heavens that she was dating Chloe goddamn Beale and had just had really _ridiculously_ good sex with her the night before. But there was only so chill anyone could be really, and she wanted to respect Jesse and didn’t want to cause a scene or prompt some sort of snarky comment from Amy about how she and Lilly should probably just make out now because “lesbehonest everyone’s doing it nowadays.” On top of this, it needed to be perfect, because Chloe deserved it.

 

So Beca followed Cynthia Rose and Stacie down the hallway, just in time to catch the tail end of a comment about the benefits of diction exercises that made the color rise to her face again before she ducked under the arms of the two other Bellas, leading the way back to the main hall.

* * *

Aubrey was strangely calm. Chloe had expected some sort of re-creation of their senior year nationals, or at least a couple dry heaves, but she stood leaning against the edge of the stage, twirling a piece of her hair between her fingers and simply staring at the floor in silence. Chloe didn’t like silence, and she was waiting for the storm to come. Eventually, Aubrey must have felt Chloe’s eyes burning a hole in her skull, and she looked up with a serene expression on her face.

 

“Chloe, I’m fine.”

 

“How?” So maybe Chloe sometimes didn’t have a filter, and maybe she was projecting a little bit here, or possibly she was a little bit jealous of everything being out in the open for them, but Aubrey took it easily in stride as she always had.

 

“She loves me, and I love her, and that’s all that matters.”

 

It was brief, straight forward, and confident, like all that was Aubrey Posen (though apparently not the straight part). And Chloe realized that she really had gotten better over the years with her control and spazzing out issues; maybe Chloe had Stacie to thank for that, and made a mental note to ask her what kind of sorcery she’d worked on Chloe’s best friend to make her go from the chili dog ralphing control freak to someone who had somehow avoided strangling Beca Mitchell at the Lodge.

 

“Want to tell me anything about it?” Chloe asked slowly and hesitantly.

 

“I’m serious, Chloe,” Aubrey said. “You don’t need to be worried.”

 

“Okay, so maybe I just want to know because you’re one of my best friends and I’m happy for you? Very confused, but very happy. And possibly mildly offended because you apparently also like women and never made a move on me?” Chloe tossed her hair in faux disdain, adopting her best pout as Aubrey rolled her eyes.

 

“Oh please.” Aubrey shoved Chloe lightly with her shoulder before leaning back against the stage. “We’ve been…together, I guess, since the Lodge.”

 

“I _knew_ that she didn’t go for a run early in the morning!”

 

“That’s what she went with?” Aubrey scoffed. “God, you’d think a girl that smart could come up with something better.”

 

“I’m also going to guess that she didn’t really need that much Electrical Engineering tutoring her freshman year?” Chloe asked.

 

Aubrey pondered the question for a moment. “Well, nothing actually happened between us until after Nationals,” she said. “But she has admitted to ulterior motives, especially since she actually ended up with a slightly higher grade than I had.”

 

Chloe giggled, squeezing Aubrey’s shoulder lightly. “I’m really happy for you, Bree. Even if I thought you two were going to kill each other at some point this weekend.”

 

“I’d call that more the effects of unresolved sexual tension and Stacie thinking that the only way to keep our relationship quiet was to go into full-on frat boy mode?”

 

“I get you on that,” Chloe muttered.

 

“I’m sorry?” Aubrey suddenly stood in front of Chloe, arms crossed in front of her. “Anything you want to share with me now?”

 

Before Chloe’s glass face could betray her, the doors to the hallway opened, and Beca led Cynthia Rose and Stacie in behind her. “One Best Woman, ready to continue bossing us all around,” Beca said, dramatically waving Stacie into the room.

 

“Don’t press me, Mitchell. I can still just step on you.” Stacie ignored Beca’s stuck-out tongue, walking over to where Chloe and Aubrey stood. “Hey.”

 

“’Hey?’” Aubrey’s hands fell to her hips, her head cocked to one side. “Stacie Conrad, you kiss me and then run out of the room and you only have the decency to say ‘hey?’”

 

Stacie sighed dramatically, pulling Aubrey into another long kiss that ended with both of them breathless as Stacie stepped back, hands still on her girlfriend’s hips. “Okay, so maybe I’m going to pay for that later. But I’m sorry, I love you, and can we please get these wedding procedures going because I know you’re freaking out just as much as I am about the detour from the schedule?”

 

Aubrey’s arms immediately dropped from their position clasped around Stacie’s back, nodding her head. “We did only schedule three minutes for a break,” she said. “All right, people, stick to your lists.” She began to herd the Zetas sitting against one wall, all business despite the lipstick smeared across her face.

 

“So that took a turn.” Beca appeared behind Chloe, eyes twinkling. “I mean, my money was on them having like drunkenly kissed or something at some point, but did you have any idea?”

 

Chloe shrugged. “I guess it kind of makes a lot of sense when you look back at everything? Funny how you can reinterpret things with new knowledge.”

 

Beca’s eyes dropped to Chloe’s lips, that dangerous half-hooded stare of hers that made Chloe want to just not give a damn and follow in Stacie’s footsteps. But she wasn’t going to put Beca in that position, especially not with Jesse standing about ten feet away, somehow comfortable as Benji and Emily’s constant third wheel.

 

“Funny’s one word,” Beca said, voice low.

 

“Hey, aca-lesbians!” Stacie, Aubrey, Beca, and Chloe all turned around at the sound of Amy’s voice, four pairs of eyes meeting in shock as Amy crossed the room to Beca and Chloe. “I meant the ginger and the short one in endless denial.” Stacie nodded, returning to her conversation with the caterer. “Bumper’s been having back issues for a week or so, so can you help me with shifting a couple of the tables over before Stacie kills us all?”

 

“Wasn’t Bumper visiting you until like a week ago?” Chloe asked.

 

“I never said the two events were completely unrelated. Now stop having eye sex and help me out here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes the plot did not move along much here, and I realize this. But we’re like two hours from wedding time, and if you don’t think shit’s happening in the next chapter, then we clearly have a different understanding of my trashy predictability. As always, come yell at me in my Tumblr trashbin at bicamitchell. Peace out homedogs 
> 
> P.S. I’M ALWAYS A SLUT FOR STAUBREY. Also, if anyone can figure out which a capella group I’m referencing, you get a cookie. Or spoilers or something. IDK. Hmu on Tumblr if you know


	11. Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The whole ‘wedding’ part of this wedding fic goes down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m sure some of you were wondering how long I could stretch out this whole ‘wedding’ business. I did feel as if I was just shamelessly using the setting as a Bechloe and Staubrey writing sandbox (if you will) for a while, but look, it’s happening!! Aren’t you excited? I’m excited. Anyways.

Stacie continued to delegate the last-minute wedding preparations from a position sitting by the stage, arguing that, as Best Woman, she really couldn’t participate in any strenuous activities that would prevent her hair from being anything other than “on fleek.” In reality, Beca suspected that it was more so she could stay with her hand clasped in Aubrey’s at all times, the two pressed arm to arm as Aubrey leaned her head against Stacie’s shoulder, only pausing occasionally to sit up and order some course of action with a silent, sharp glance. Beca figured that anything was better than the screaming Aubrey they’d experienced earlier in the week, all too reminiscent of the Bella captain she’d been their freshman year.

 

And really, Beca was not going to begrudge them their moment, even if she and Chloe kept catching each other staring at the two with a mix of happiness for their friends and immense jealousy that they weren’t in the same position. The immature side of Beca wanted to be annoyed that Stacie had just beaten her to the punch, because CR was clearly fine with _one_ surprise couple stealing a bit of the wedding thunder, but two was probably a bit too much.

 

Cynthia Rose and Hayley had left the room a short while back to get dressed for the ceremony and spend some time with their families. Beca swore, for the first time ever, that she’d seen tears in CR’s eyes as she gave her fiancée a final slow kiss, holding her hand for a minute after and slowly spinning the ring on her finger. Hayley had grinned down, running her hand over Cynthia Rose’s cheek.

 

“You know I don’t plan on taking that off, right?”

 

With a quick snort of laughter, Cynthia Rose raised Hayley’s hand to her lips briefly. “You better not,” she said. “I spent a damn long time finding it.”

 

Watching the whole exchange from across the room, Chloe had sniffled as quietly as she could while Emily visibly jumped up and down. When the brides had left the room, Kelly hesitantly crossed to where Stacie and Aubrey sat, keeping a good five-foot distance from the blonde.

 

“I can’t handle those two sometimes,” she said with a rueful smile. “But I think we’re close to set here, at least by my list. Y’all’ve clearly got something a bit more extensive, so let me know if there’s anything else we can do.”

 

“Nah, I think we’re good,” Stacie replied. “I think Aubrey scared your side of the party enough that they were doing everything double time.”

 

Kelly laughed, carefully eyeing Aubrey before giving her a small grin. “It was an interesting tactic. But um, I’m sorry about all that. Didn’t mean to get in between anything at all.”

 

“You’re only human,” Aubrey said, sitting up with an admiring glance at her girlfriend. “People don’t tend to be able to help themselves with this one.”

 

Nodding enthusiastically, Kelly waved hesitantly at Aubrey before leading the Zetas out of the hall. Beca rolled her eyes as Aubrey placed a kiss on Stacie’s cheek, whispering something in her ear that made the leggy brunette’s eyes widen before she shoved Aubrey to the side.

 

“Probably best for all of us that that came out.” Beca turned to see Chloe standing next to her, hands in her pockets as she leaned up against the wall next to her. “I’m not sure how much longer I was going to be able to take crazy neurotic Aubrey. I’d gotten so spoiled over the last few years.”

 

“Honestly still wrapping my head around it,” Beca said with a chuckle. “Who’da thought it’d be those two?”

 

Chloe cocked her head to one side. “I mean, I see it. They’re both brilliant, controlling, even if one of them is a bit more obvious about it, and confident.” She turned to Beca, leaning into her shoulder. “Besides, people aren’t always obviously compatible from the beginning. It’s about what you experience and how you grow together.”

 

“Damn, Beale. Did you get a third major in philosophy when I wasn’t looking?” Beca felt Chloe’s shrug against her arm, casting a quick glance across the room before threading her fingers between Chloe’s. “But, uh, yeah, I think I know what you mean.”

 

Squeezing her hand, Chloe beamed down at Beca, those blue eyes igniting Beca’s own with that ceaseless fire they somehow always carried. “I’d hope so.”

 

And Beca wanted nothing more in that moment that to take her free hand and wrap it around Chloe’s waist, dragging her close and holding that gaze until neither of them could take it any longer. Chloe’s eyes were daring her, fervent and wild as they slipped down to her lips, Beca not even daring to take in a breath to break the moment.

 

It was Chloe this time who stepped back, the points where her hand had met Beca’s still buzzing with some sort of leftover energy as Chloe stared over Beca’s head with an almost too wide grin. “Hey, Em!”

 

“So Stacie and Aubrey are kind of busy making out or whatever,” Emily whispered, Beca looking over her shoulder to confirm the fact as Aubrey’s leg swung over Stacie’s body. “Should we like starting getting ready or something? Because those suits are absolutely _amazing_ , Chloe, and it’s so great because I was so jealous of how you guys looked during the Kennedy Center performance and—“

 

“Okay, pause for breath, Em,” Beca said, placing a hand on Emily’s shoulder. “Probably a good call. I’ll go pry those too apart with a crowbar if the rest of you want to all go start the whole changing process.”

 

Chloe called out for the remaining Bellas scattered across the space as Beca crossed to the stage. “Hey!” She snapped her fingers repeatedly until Aubrey finally pulled back. “Keep it in your pants, maybe?”

 

“Jealousy looks good on no one, Beca,” Aubrey said, emphasizing the last syllable with that subtly judgmental tone that she seemed to only reserve for the former “grade A pain in her ass.” Regardless, she stood up, pulling Stacie with her, who gave Beca a decidedly un-apologetic shrug before hopping off the stage.

* * *

The environment in the changing room fifteen minutes before the processional was alarmingly similar to the one Chloe had experienced before the ill-fated ‘Trouble’ performance. This time, however, she was determined to not be the most high-strung, spazzing idiot of them all, and Stacie seemed fully equipped to take over that role, switching into high gear as soon as Cynthia Rose had entered the room.

 

For her part, Cynthia Rose was handling it amazingly well, a dreamy grin permanently etched on her face as Stacie applied subtle makeup adjustments while babbling endlessly. Eventually, the Best Woman stepped back, hands wringing nervously in front of her as she stared down at her friend.

 

“Sorry that we were a bit limited for time,” she mumbled. “I had a whole plan and now everyone’s rushing and—“

 

“—Stace.” Cynthia Rose took Stacie by the hands, shaking them gently up and down until the brunette took a deep breath. “It’s all perfect. _Thank you.”_

Stacie let out a loud sniffle, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath. “I told myself I wasn’t going to cry after I got my eyeliner done. Dammit, C.”

 

“Hey, I’m supposed to be the center of attention here, right?” Cynthia Rose playfully shoved Stacie with her shoulder. “It’ll probably help if you’ve got a little bit of panda syndrome going on.”

 

Stacie’s retort was interrupted by her ringing phone on the table next to her. “Yes? Uh huh. Uh huh. Okay. Yeah. Bye.” She dropped the phone back down, straightening her suit jacket as she pulled Cynthia Rose up. “Well, it’s time. Let’s go get you hitched.”

 

A collective whoop went up around the room, even Beca breaking into a round of applause as Cynthia Rose performed a series of bows to the assembled Bellas. “Hey hey, let’s all calm down here! Just wanted to thank you all for coming and being here; it wouldn’t be the same without you. So I’m gonna go marry the girl of my dreams, and you all just stand there and look pretty, all right?”

 

Another cheer, and they followed Cynthia Rose out of the room, Chloe hanging back until she stood in line next to Beca. “Hey.”

 

“Hey yourself,” Beca said, voice low while giving Chloe an appreciative look up and down. “Still definitely a fan of these bridesmaids outfits.”

 

Chloe shrugged, biting her lip while flipping her hair nonchalantly over her shoulder and catching the subtle lift in Beca’s breath as they walked. “I try my best. Hopefully we won’t recreate _all_ of the Kennedy Center performance.”

 

“If Amy manages to flash all of CR’s and Hayley’s families without hanging from the ceiling perilously, I think she just deserves a round of applause.”

 

“What are you aca-idiots saying about me?” Amy’s voice carried back down the hall, and Beca sighed as she and Chloe jogged to catch up with the rest. “You know what they say about Australians. Ears like a bat.”

 

“Is that a thing?” Jessica asked, looking over to Ashley for confirmation, who shook her head as subtly as she could manage before giving Amy an exceedingly innocent smile.

 

“Watch it,” Amy said, signaling from her eyes towards Ashley’s before almost crashing into Cynthia Rose, who had suddenly halted right in front of the door to the hall where the main ceremony would be held.

 

Chloe stood on her toes, peering through the tiny window at the waiting crowd. “Is everything okay?”

 

Cynthia Rose exhaled a deep breath, turning to face the group. “Sorry,” she replied, smoothing back her hair. “I just needed to take a moment to collect myself, ‘cause she’s sure as hell gonna knock me dead.”

 

As the notes of the wedding march slipped in through the cracks around the door, Cynthia Rose pushed it open and walked down the pale blue carpet, meeting Hayley at the center aisle before the two turned and walked up towards the arch at the back of the barn. The Zetas and Bellas filed in one at a time, pairing up as they followed the brides to line up on either side. Beca fought a grimace as she ended up walking next to an Amazonian redhead who had to be over six feet tall.

 

In the end, though, she was standing next to her own redhead as the officiant conducted the ceremony, Cynthia Rose’s hand never leaving Hayley’s while Aubrey and Stacie took breaks every few seconds from watching to meet each other’s eyes in glassy stares. Chloe had managed to hold back her tears for all of five minutes, and was now just doing her best to keep the mascara from streaming down her face.

 

She jumped slightly when she felt a hand slip to the small of her back, looking over to see Beca staring up at her, mouth slightly quirked. “You gonna be all right there, Beale?” she murmured, fingers slowly rubbing calming circles against the fabric of the jacket.

 

“They’re happy,” she said, leaning slightly back into Beca’s hand. “Sorry, you know how I get with things like this.”

 

“You cried when I showed you a video of a golden retriever puppy running through a field of dandelions. This was not outside the realm of my imagining.” Beca started to tap a beat into her back that felt distinctly like ‘Titanium,’ Chloe’s smile widening almost to the point where she felt like it’d crack her face.

 

“In my defense, I think it was partially about badass Beca Mitchell taking the time to go find a puppy video that even I hadn’t seen,” Chloe replied, pausing to watch as Stacie stepped forwards with the ring. She only stepped back into her position after almost crushing Cynthia Rose in a hug that had even Hayley laughing, waiting patiently with Kelly at her side.

 

Cynthia Rose finally managed to extricate herself from her Best Woman, turning back to face Hayley with the ring between her fingers. “Hayley Baskey. There’s a part of me that really just wanted to go for it and quote ‘When Harry Met Sally’ because I know you can’t help but cry at that scene, and really, you also were the best friend I had even when I was too much of an idiot to realize you’d been flirting with me.”

 

A soft chuckle came from Beca at Chloe’s side, fingers pressing lightly against her back. “But,” Cynthia Rose continued. “You were always there for me despite all the times I was an idiot. And at some point, you became that other, better half without me losing any of myself. You made the best parts of me better and pulled out things I never would’ve even seen, and, hell, I’ve been yours for a good, long time, but why not make it official?” She took Hayley’s left hand in her own, staring up into the other girl’s eyes. “So, I love you and I will always love you. Sound good?”

 

Hayley nodded, eyes sparkling as she bit her lip in a failed attempt to hold back tears while Cynthia Rose slipped the ring onto her finger. She clasped her right hand over the Bella’s left, taking a deep breath and giving Cynthia Rose’s hand a quick squeeze before taking the ring from Kelly.

 

“For the record,” she said, voice breaking slightly. “I would’ve completely accepted ‘When Harry Met Sally.’ I personally was considering ‘The Princess Bride’ but ‘as you wish’ seemed a little concise. So. Cynthia Rose Adams. I’ve known you since we were three, and I think a part of me knew what was going to happen even back then because my mother tells me that I threw a particularly nasty tantrum the day we moved away. But we found each other again, even if it took me swiping through a certain dating app when you just happened to be at an a capella competition nearby.”

 

Stacie shook her head as she laughed, a grin on her face as if she’d heard the story a thousand times and it never got old. Cynthia Rose, for her part, was staring into Hayley’s eyes as if the rest of the world had fallen away around them, leaving nothing but Hayley’s words and being behind. And maybe Chloe was a hopeless romantic who fell in love too quickly, but there was some part of her that didn’t care, some part that was anchored by that hand against her back, that had surely sent that same look Beca’s way more times than she could count.

 

“But regardless, stupid dating apps or not, you were that girl who I’d thrown a temper tantrum for and I was prepared to do it again, especially if you kept missing every signal I threw your way. You’re the most talented person I’ve ever met, you’re an insanely loyal friend, and I’ve pretty much forgotten what it was like to live without you. You make every day better and I can’t imagine another moment apart.” She lifted Cynthia Rose’s hand to her lips, pressing them against the ring finger. “So, nineteen years after I first met you, will you marry me?”

 

Cynthia Rose could barely wait for the ring to be slipped onto her finger before she clasped Hayley’s cheeks, dragging her down into a long kiss as the church erupted into applause that almost completely covered the officiant’s declaration of “wife and wife.” Stacie somehow magically pulled a pile of flower petals out from nowhere, throwing them over Hayley and Cynthia Rose’s head with a cheer, the newlyweds laughing as they pulled back, eyes never leaving each other.

 

And Beca’s hand still didn’t fall from Chloe’s back. She actually leaned in closer as all attention was focused elsewhere, and Chloe looked down to see tears in badass Beca Mitchell’s eyes. “So are you going to claim that there’s an invisible stick in your eye again, Becs?”

 

Beca sniffled, wiping her free hand beneath her eyes. “Shut up, Beale. We were at a campsite in the middle of the woods. I stand by that.”

 

“Uh huh. So what’s the excuse now?”

 

“I—well. Fuck it, I give up.” Beca lightly hip-checked Chloe, giving her waist a brief squeeze before dropping her hand. “You’ve ruined me, Chloe Beale.”

 

“Well, somebody had to,” Chloe said. “Just glad I got the chance.” And it was silly, but she was already missing Beca’s hand, and there was nothing she could do about it as the brides ran down the aisle, the organized wedding party turning into enough of a mess that Beca got swept up between Amy and Emily as they filed out.

* * *

So maybe Beca hadn’t been as subtle as she could’ve been during the wedding, and she swore that Emily kept shooting her questioning looks as they collectively made their way to the reception, stopping every few feet so the brides could kiss and stare at each other before continuing the mad dash. Beca was honestly amazed that there hadn’t been at least four accidents with people bowling into each other, but Amy had taken the position at the front, and would swing her arms up as necessary, bringing everyone to a halt.

 

Emily’s eyes kept flitting between Beca at her side and Chloe, who had gotten caught near the back of the pack among the Zetas. She was blending in well enough, all smiles and “y’all’s” and immaculately curled hair, but it was swiftly turning into a three-way staring contest between Beca, Chloe, and Emily at every pausing juncture.

The reception hall in view, Chloe slipped through the crowd to stand between Beca and Emily, easily engaging the young Bella in conversation long enough to snap her attention.

 

Beca needed the break as well, because every façade she had had been shattered throughout the ceremony, that moment of seeing one of her closest friends so blissfully happy and in love. And it wasn’t jealousy, or the squeamishness she got whenever she saw her father and the stepmonster kiss, but more recognition. Perhaps it was easiest because they’d brought up Chloe’s favorite movie that she’d gotten Beca to watch about fifteen times with the promise of sword fights and pirates (though Beca had watched enough far inferior rom coms for her that Chloe likely knew these elements were not necessary to mention). But there was some part of her that had clicked there, that had fought past all the denial and excuses of the previous years and realized that there was really something there with Chloe Beale.

 

So she sucked at feelings, and would probably need a good, long conversation with Stacie as always to try and figure anything out, but that subtle pull in her stomach that was so Chloe and had been there for years didn’t seem to be leaving any time soon. It was every stare, every laugh, every moment when they were almost touching but agonizingly separate to that point where Beca had impulsively started reaching for Chloe before she even realized it. It was Chloe, for fuck’s sake; exceptions had to be made without giving a damn for proper behavior. Beca could sell it to her self as just part of being a rebellious badass. Maybe.

 

She could hear Stacie’s clear sigh of relief when they entered the reception hall to find everything as they’d left it, and the group busied themselves with settling into their assigned seats. Aubrey and Stacie took a particularly long moment, as Stacie was seated at CR and Hayley’s table, along with Kelly and the brides’ parents. Aubrey finally turned away to follow Chloe and Beca to their table, Beca rolling her eyes as she caught Stacie’s subtle ass grab despite Aubrey’s amazing ability to keep a straight face (she’d really have to ask her for tips later).

 

As the rest of the guests began to stream in through the doors, Beca leaned back in her chair, pushing her fingers through her hair while the caterers started setting out the first course. She didn’t dare to look over at Chloe with Aubrey that close, Chloe who looked honestly godlike in that outfit, all eyes and hips and legs. So of course Beca almost spit her water across the table at Jessica when Chloe’s knee knocked against her own, repeating the action until Beca looked up from her plate.

 

“Did you need something?” she asked between tight lips, doing her best to keep her eyes on Chloe’s nose even as the redhead leaned in, giving Beca a view down her shirt that she definitely did not take advantage of.

 

“Just wanted to say hi.” It was innocent and light, as if Chloe’s foot wasn’t pushing Beca’s pants leg up, brushing lightly against newly bared skin and forcing a sharp breath out of Beca’s throat.

 

“That’s normally done with your mouth, not your foot,” Beca muttered. “Also when did you take off your shoe?”

 

Chloe shrugged, hand slipping onto Beca’s knee. “But mouths can be used for so many other things.”

 

And of course all eyes were on them when Chloe yelped as Beca’s knee reflexively shot up towards the table, Chloe’s hand caught between the wood and her prey. “Bug,” Beca managed to stammer out. “There’s a bug or something. I think it bit her.”

 

“Oh my god, are you all right?” Aubrey began to get out of her chair, only halted when Chloe held up her other hand, shaking her head vigorously.

 

“I’ll just go check it out and see if we need antibiotic ointment or anything,” Beca said.

 

“Beca Mitchell, do you have _any_ sort of first aid training at all?”

 

Beca shook her head, chewing the inside of her cheek. “Not beyond that which you get by being a clumsy kid?” Aubrey’s eyes narrowed. “But like, there’s a lot of bugs in Portland. I’m used to that sort of shit.” Beca looked desperately over to Chloe for some sort of the support, but the older girl seemed to just be fighting back laughter at Beca’s latest statement. “C’mon, Aubrey. What if the speeches start and you miss even a word of your girlfriend’s surely tear-jerking monologue?”

 

Aubrey’s jaw worked for a moment, eyes moving over to Chloe’s painfully innocuous expression. And Beca had to count her damn lucky stars as Stacie let out a particularly loud laugh at that moment, drawing Aubrey’s gaze. “Fine,” she said, tone slightly soft with a twinge of suspicion. “Just don’t be gone too long.”

 

Saluting jauntily, Beca almost threw her chair backwards as she led Chloe out by the uninjured wrist, through the door and down the hall. Chloe took control once the door closed behind them, dragging Beca at almost a sprint until, after two unsuccessful attempts at opening doors, she pulled her into the first unlocked space they could find.

 

It was dark and cramped and Beca opened her mouth to make some comment about how at least when she’d pulled them into the meat freezer, she’d had the decency to find a place with things to sit on. This was all forgotten when Chloe’s hands tangled in her hair, lips hot against Beca’s own and pushing her back into the wall. Beca’s hands instinctively fell to Chloe’s hips, fingers un-tucking her shirt and slipping beneath to scrape against blazing skin.

 

Nipping at Beca’s lip, Chloe moved one hand underneath her jacket, thumb pressing into Beca’s ribcage over her shirt. Beca swore she could catch a whine from Chloe’s mouth as her fingers fruitlessly fought with the fabric, hips rolling against Beca’s own as the nails of the other hand dug into Beca’s skull.

 

The brief moment between when Chloe pulled back for air and moved to kiss down Beca’s jaw gave Beca’s brain just enough time to rip control back from her libido, which was currently ordering her hands to slip underneath the waistband at the back of Chloe’s pants. As Chloe’s lips landed right below Beca’s ear, she pulled the taller girl away by the back of her shirt, waiting for Chloe’s eyes to open with Beca’s own leveled at the thick lashes.

 

Chloe only furrowed her brow, shutting her eyes more tightly as she swallowed heavily, chest heaving. She remained still until Beca stood on her toes to place a light kiss on the top of her nose, hands traveling around to sit against Chloe’s hips. “You wanna look at me, Chlo?”

 

“Honestly, I had other plans for what I wanted to do to you, Becs,” Chloe replied, voice husky and all too reminiscent of the previous night. Slowly, she relented, face still scrunched in concern as her eyes first dropped to Beca’s lips before hesitantly traveling up to her eyes. “Something wrong?”

 

Beca exhaled sharply, fingers digging into Chloe’s hips as she struggled to find any words and thanked god for the writer-producer dichotomy of the music industry as it was, because really, why couldn’t something like that exist in real life? Hell, she and Chloe could make a great team, Chloe spilling out word after word of heartfelt declarations and Beca adding just the necessary snappy personal touches to make them particularly memorable to those beyond spellbound fools like Beca Mitchell who probably couldn’t forget a word Chloe said if she tried.

 

“I like your words.” It was out before she could stop herself, and Chloe’s eyebrow shot up, her mouth quirking to the side in that way that always made Beca want to kiss her and fix whatever was perturbing her. “I mean. Shit. You…” She sighed deeply in frustration, raking the fingers of one hand through her hair before trying again. “I just like wouldn’t forget you.”

 

“I would hope so after last night…and four years of friendship?” Despite Chloe’s best efforts, a smile was breaking across her face, a shit-eating grin that this word vomit she’d only really seen in relation to the Kommissar was now in her honor. “It would be a bit frat boy-esque of you, Becs.”

 

The fingers of Beca’s hand still on Chloe’s hips drummed a pattern that even Beca herself didn’t recognize as she opened and closed her mouth, willing any words to come out. “I mean, I like you, okay? Like I really really really really like you.”

 

“Slow down, Carly Rae.”

 

“Oh shut up,” Beca said, shoving Chloe backwards with her free hand. “Okay. So. I suck at this, um.” Her mouth was suddenly painfully dry as Chloe watched her, waiting for any sort of break or indication of what the hell she was trying to say. “I just get this feeling in my stomach when you’re around, y’know?”

 

“Are we talking heartburn, nausea?”

 

“I mean, I think it’s a heart thing?” And at that point, Beca knew she had no choice but to forge forwards. “Like, okay. You’ve kind of been the most important person in my life for a while. And it really sucked for that year when I was being dumb and keeping things from you and it hurt me to hurt you but it also hurt me to be away from you. But like I didn’t want to tell you because then I thought you might freak out and that’d hurt you too and I’m not supposed to be the one to hurt you.”

 

Chloe nodded slowly, eyes widening as she took a small step in. “So that was stupid,” Beca said. “But I mean, I’ve been really good at being stupid towards you for a while because I’m pretty sure we stopped being ‘just friends’ a long time before I dragged you into a meat freezer and jumped you.”

 

“I wasn’t particularly complaining,” Chloe replied with a cocky shrug.

 

“Ok, yeah, but it wasn’t really fair to either of us. Or Jesse.” Beca had anticipated Chloe’s face falling there, but it still sure as hell hurt to see that subtle lip wobble. “I mean, he said something. At Worlds. He was talking about how I never really made time for him because I was always elsewhere. And, um, he said that I needed to find someone who I was willing to make time for.”

 

She took a deep breath, gripping Chloe’s arms right above her elbows and waiting until she had those unfairly blue eyes nowhere but on her own. “I think he meant because I was always with you, and well, you make time for the people you love.”

 

Chloe’s eyes grew impossibly wider, vulnerable and terrified as that dangerous moment hung between them. And Beca realized that Chloe needed to hear it, or maybe more that Beca needed to say it after she’d fought it down for years. “I love you, Chloe.” It was barely above a whisper, and Beca was praying that Chloe had only missed it when she didn’t move, face frozen above her and hands starkly absent from Beca’s space.

 

Beca shut her eyes, fighting back everything that was surging up in her and trying to reason that it didn’t have to be the end just because she was an idiot and moved too fast and said things too early and couldn’t help but be a creature of extremes. And as she was struggling to find the words to say all of this, to apologize without taking it back too harshly or doing anything else stupid, a soft thumb pressed up against her chin, tilting her head back upwards.

 

So Beca could forget her concerns for that brief second as Chloe’s lips pressed against her own, the second hand traveling to keep Beca from hiding in any way as Chloe pulled back. Chloe licked her lips, and Beca could swear that she felt those hands trembling slightly as she opened her mouth.

 

“I love you, too.” Chloe’s voice quavered, and that tugging in Beca’s stomach pushed her forwards, slipping her arms around Chloe’s waist and fitting against her, perfectly cheek to cheek as they always had. She didn’t dare move a muscle except to pull Chloe even closer, all she could do to stop that shaking and try to be the one fighting the other’s fears for once. Because yeah, Beca could do this, and at this point she was pretty sure she’d fight a giant tarantula with the head of a Furby if that’s what Chloe needed.

 

Chloe’s hand slipped up to play with the bottom of Beca’s hair, the tremors in her shoulders subsiding as she slipped the strands between her fingers as Beca breathed a sigh of relief. “You had me scared there for a second, Beale.”

 

“ _You_?” Chloe stepped back, eyebrows raised incredulously. “I’m sorry, but you went from babbling about nausea to feeling guilty about your ex-boyfriend. That was a rollercoaster of an experience right there.”

 

“Okay, well I _was_ told at a certain point to not improvise as much.” Chloe rolled her eyes as Beca smirked. “What? Being around Aubrey brought out old habits.”

 

“God, I’m in love with a tiny idiot,” Chloe muttered.

 

And Beca couldn’t stop the goofy grin from spreading across her face at that one word, awash in the way it felt around her like some sort of infuriatingly perfect missing piece to a mix she’d been battling with for far too long. “I am _so_ sorry to be an inconvenience,” Beca said, leaning up on her toes slightly. Chloe’s breath hitched as Beca’s lips inadvertently slipped against her cheek with her words. “Any way at all I can make it up to you?”

 

“Not if you’re just going to pull back again.” There was that whine in her voice once more, extended and lifting in pitch as Beca’s hands traveled down her back. Beca tilted her body until the top of her thigh slipped between Chloe’s, pressing up against her while she dragged Chloe’s chest flush against her, relishing in the distinct groan from the other girl’s mouth.

 

“Wasn’t in my plans,” Beca murmured, teeth grazing over the skin of Chloe’s neck, light so as to avoid leaving any damning marks but with just enough pressure to snap Chloe into action, pushing Beca backwards suddenly until her back hit the opposite wall.

 

Beca’s hands moved to the button of Chloe’s pants as their lips met, sloppy and desperate as the younger girl’s mind was completely busied with getting Chloe as naked as she could with the limited space around them. Her triumphant “yes” at her success with the fastened pants turned into more of a breathy gasp as Chloe, seemingly with less concerns regarding being caught than Beca, sucked hard on Beca’s pressure point, the brunette’s head falling back against the wall as Chloe pushed even more enthusiastically forwards.

 

“So was it unintentional that you two are getting it on in a closet, or were you just trying to be completely cliché?”

 

Eyes snapping open to meet blinding light, Beca blinked furiously until she could make out the shape of Amy, hand on the doorknob and the smuggest expression Beca could recall having seen in a long time. Chloe jumped backwards, mouth falling open just as Stacie and Aubrey stepped around the corner, Stacie doubling over in laughter as she took in the sight.

 

“Oh my god,” Aubrey breathed, shoved to one side suddenly by Cynthia Rose and Hayley.

 

“Now _that’s_ what I’m talking about.” Cynthia Rose’s eyes swept over the pair as Beca tried desperately to smooth out her hair and fix her rumpled jacket.

 

Beca looked over to Chloe, letting out a weak laugh. “Um…it’s not what it looks like?”

 

“Becs, at the point that you’re in a closet with a girl with a giant hickey on your neck and her pants pushed down, I’m not sure there’s too much you can say,” Stacie said, waggling her eyebrows up and down.

 

“Well, guess I’m two for two,” Hayley added.

 

“And I’m a thousand bucks richer.” Amy cast her eyes down at Chloe’s hips. “Wanna make yourself decent before we get back out there, Red?”

 

As Chloe blushed and fiddled with her pants, Beca turned to face the assembled group. “So, yeah. Um. I can’t say that we’ve been together for months? But uh, we’re dating?”

 

“We should’ve charged something for this wedding,” Cynthia Rose said, nudging Hayley with her arm. “Bit of a match-making service going on.”

 

“Oh please,” Aubrey scoffed. “It was an inevitability. This just stuck them together for long enough that the sexual tension boiled over and I’m guessing the feelings went with it?” Her eyes moved over to her former co-captain, giving her a warm, congratulatory smile.

 

“While I’m very happy that you two finally got your shit together, there’s that whole reception thing that we should probably get back to.” Stacie parted the group, allowing Beca to sheepishly slip through the door with Chloe at her heels. “Anyway, I have a kickass speech to deliver and you’re not gonna want to miss a second of it.”

 

And damn if it didn’t feel good to proudly take Chloe’s hand in her own, grinning at Jessica and Ashley as they came into view down the corridor, Beca’s thumb lightly rubbing circles against Chloe’s as they returned to the reception hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE NOT BEEN TO A WEDDING SINCE I WAS LIKE FOUR AND A FLOWER GIRL. So I’m going to use the excuse of a non-traditional wedding for the fact that this probably has literally NOTHING to do with how actual weddings work. Now. These silly little aca-idiots are messing with my head. But really, the ultimate moral of this story is if you’ve been in love with your best friend for years, go hook up with her at a wedding and then declare your undying passion in a broom closet. No one can ever say that I don’t give good advice to the youths. Beyond that, TOLD Y’ALL I WAS GONNA MANAGE TO WRAP EVERYTHING UP. I honestly can’t believe that we have just one chapter left like ??? Not sure how to feel about it. Anyways, hmu on Tumblr at bicamitchell if you feel so inclined, and have a lovely rest of your day.


	12. She Keeps Me Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything comes to a close with the reception. Not really sure what else to say here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hot damn, y’all. We’re here. This far too long piece of nonsense is coming to an end. I’m going to save my emotional pontificating for the closing note (how many of you actually read these anyways?) and let you get right into this. I hope it gets somewhere near any expectations you have (but who am I kidding, I set the expectation bar hella low a long time ago).

It felt a bit like something out of Chloe’s wildest dreams. Okay, maybe only certain parts of what had been happening in the closet earlier were close to her truly wildest dreams, but there was something a bit ethereal about walking into a reception hall full of people with her fingers laced between Beca Mitchell’s.

 

The surreal only inched closer when Beca didn’t even halt or flinch for an instant as they entered the room, all Barden eyes falling to the new couple. Chloe didn’t dare to look over to the Treble table, keeping her eyes trained on the stage where Kelly was entertaining the crowd with some sort of dance routine that was most likely helped by the half empty bottle of champagne sitting on the DJ table near her.

 

Okay, so that made Beca spaz a little bit, because despite the fact that the equipment wasn’t hers, she had this very natural motherly sentiment towards all electronic audio equipment of the world. This applied to pretty much everything from the rusted old record player she’d made Chloe help her carry out of the Salvation Army Beca’s junior year to the headphones that had single-handedly built her relationship with the step-monster one Christmas. The only music-related device that Beca had ever cast a derisive eye on was Chloe’s old Zune from middle school, because “of _course_ you had a Zune, Chloe, what the actual fuck?”

 

So she was tugging Chloe lightly towards the imperiled soundboard, whether consciously or not, when Chloe’s eyes finally landed on Jesse, who seemed to be getting bombarded with questions from Donald on one side and Bumper on the other. Maybe they could’ve played it off as just another part of Beca and Chloe being the ridiculously close friends that they were, but the jig was off when Amy stepped forwards, raising her arms dramatically.

 

“Bumper, we’re getting that custom caper costume for Halloween, courtesy of the awkward wonder that is Bloe!”

 

Chloe’s mouth dropped open, and Beca whirled towards Amy, apparently lost for words as she settled for pointing furiously from herself to Amy to Jesse. Emily, who was standing next to Benji across from Jesse, turned to her noticeably unaffected boyfriend, brow furrowed quizzically.

 

“Jesse asked me not to?” Benji said weakly, puppy dog eyes dropping into full effect,

 

Emily glanced down at Jesse, a smile breaking across her face at his confirming nod and shrug. She kissed Benji lightly on the cheek before sprinting across the room and almost knocking Beca and Chloe over with a hug.

 

“I’m so happy for you!” She released them just as Beca’s face was starting to tinge a bit blue, the smaller brunette doubling over with a wheezing cough as Emily apologized profusely.

 

“Thanks, Em,” Chloe said with a laugh. “Sorry we didn’t tell you, but um, it’s all kind of new.”

 

“I just can’t believe it actually worked!” Emily beamed over at Stacie, who immediately attempted to duck behind the rest of the Bellas to avoid Beca’s glare, ultimately thwarted by the fact that she was a good two inches taller than even her girlfriend.

 

Aubrey dragged the protesting Best Woman out from behind her back as Jesse and Benji joined the assembly. “Wanna tell us what that’s about, Stace?” Beca asked, dangerous hint in her tone.

 

“To be honest, not particularly.” Stacie adopted her widest grin as she took a nervous step forwards. “I may or may not have hatched a minor plan to get you two crazy kids together finally. No offense, Jess.”

 

“None taken.”

 

“So was having Emily crash in our room one night part of the plan? Because you’re kind of failing at the whole evil mastermind thing there.” And it was admittedly a bit adorable to see Beca trying and failing to keep her most menacing scowl across her face, fighting that grin that had always seemed to be specially saved for Chloe.

 

“We considered that more general observational practices.” Chloe yelped and jumped forward at the sound of Lilly’s voice. The other Bella had disappeared at some point between the ceremony and the start of the reception, but now stood right at Chloe’s back, mud or paint or something smeared underneath her eyes like a soldier in _Platoon_.

 

“Okay, how many of you were in on this?” Beca’s eyes swept across the group, who seemed to suddenly find the pattern of the carpet to be particularly fascinating.

 

“Well, I had money on the line,” Amy started.

 

Cynthia Rose gave Beca a casual shrug before ruffling her hair lightly. “You know how it is, wedding brings out the romantic in me and all.”

 

“We just wanted someone to double date with,” Jessica said, squeezing Ashley’s shoulder from behind.

 

Chloe spun around, eyes wide. “Wait, _what_?”

 

“Yeah, we’ve been dating for four years,” Ashley added slowly. “Just because we’re not in an endless cycle of ‘will they won’t they’ or having sex in a closet doesn’t mean that we weren’t together.”

 

Aubrey cocked her head to one side, considering the two for a moment. “Stace, I think you owe me twenty bucks.”

 

Stacie sighed as she slipped the bill into her girlfriend’s hand. “Some day, you’re going to have to tell me the trick to that whole psychic thing, Aubs.” With a wink to Jessica and Ashley, she turned to face the crowded reception hall, the vast majority of its occupants staring on with varying degrees of confusion and amusement. “Unless anyone else has some truly life-changing revelations to make—and I’m still waiting on you and Benji, Jess—by my count, we have that whole reception thing to get going.”

 

“Damn straight,” Cynthia Rose said, taking Hayley’s hand in her own. “I think I deserve a good couple hours of everyone staring at me in jealousy because of this gorgeous woman next to me.”

 

“Also there’s cake,” Hayley replied.

 

“Well, clearly also very important.”

 

As Chloe made to follow the rest of the Bellas to their designated seats, she felt Beca’s hand land on her wrist, holding her back. “Is everything okay?”

 

Beca nodded, eyes on the ground. “Yeah, um. I just.” Those intensely dark blue eyes shot up to Chloe’s own as Beca tapped her thumb against the ladybug tattoo on Chloe’s wrist. “I’m just really happy, y’know?”

 

“Y’know, me too,” Chloe said, failing to hold back her laugh when Beca shoved her lightly with her shoulder. She leaned down to place a light kiss on Beca’s forehead, lips resting still as the tapping pattern slowed and stilled. Stepping back, Chloe caught Beca’s eyes wandering behind her over to the stage and let out a groan. “You’re just sucking up to me so you can run off and play with the DJ equipment, aren’t you?”

 

“You know me so well, Beale.”

 

And Chloe couldn’t begrudge her at all when she looked so much like a four-year-old who wanted to go off and play with her favorite toy truck in the sandbox. Accompanying a gratuitous eye roll with a dramatic wave of her hand, Chloe watched as Beca almost skipped up onto the raised platform before turning and taking her seat next to Aubrey to steal the salad that Beca was certainly never going to touch.

* * *

 

Beca was eventually dragged away by the DJ table by a combination of the arrival of the rather large man who had actually been hired for the event (though Beca had required that she be allowed to make a playlist for use at least part of the time) and an unnecessarily strong shove from Stacie as she mounted the stage, tapping a knife against her glass to bring the room to attention. Landing with a disgruntled “ooph,” Beca shuffled her way over to slip between Chloe and Aubrey, only to see that Chloe was digging into Beca’s piece of cake. When Beca tapped her on the shoulder, leaning back with a judgmental gaze, Chloe simply shrugged before sticking her finger into the frosting on the top of the cake and spreading it across the tip of Beca’s nose.

 

“What the hell?” Yanked down into her chair, Beca’s indignant yelp lost a certain degree of its intended bite. Before Beca could retaliate, Chloe shoved a glass of champagne in front of her, motioning with a slight jerk of her head towards the three empty ones in front of her own plate. “Having fun, I see?”

 

“I got bored,” Chloe murmured into Beca’s ear. “You were busy and Aubrey couldn’t find any time between ‘I told you so’s’ and staring dreamily across the room at Stacie to be much entertainment.” She took a quick glance around the room before slipping her hand up Beca’s thigh. “I always do like watching you work, though. You’re _so_ good with your hands.”

 

“Okay, slow down there, tiger,” Beca said, voice tight as she wrapped one hand around Chloe’s wrist. “Remember where that got us last time?”

 

Chloe cocked her head to the side. “I think it all worked out pretty well, actually.”

 

She looked so calm and certain, eyes clear and focused despite that slightly drunk, goofy grin that was so Chloe. Slipping her hand into Chloe’s, Beca pressed a kiss against her cheek. “Yeah, I guess it did.”

 

“Well, good evening everyone!” Stacie had managed to get hold of a microphone, relatively unnecessary in a small space, especially for someone with years of a capella training. “How are we all doing tonight?”

 

Uncomfortable clapping and coughs gave way to whooping cheers as Jesse and the Trebles shouted and banged various utensils against their glasses, the Bellas eventually following suit. “Tough crowd, huh?” Stacie said, unflappable as always. “My name’s Stacie Conrad, and I am the official Best Woman for Cynthia Rose. After much debate, Kelly agreed to let me lead things off, which is probably best for CR’s sake, since I’ve been known to say some crazy things after a few too many glasses of champagne. Speaking of which, let’s hear it for the open bar!”

 

This time, it was much easier to get the room going, everyone raising their glasses, the Zetas in particular causing a particular ruckus that outshone even the Trebles despite Bumper and Donald’s best efforts. Aubrey, sitting to Beca’s left, rolled her eyes, that same dreamy smile still playing across her lips despite any front she was attempting to put up.

 

“But anyways. I’ve known Cynthia Rose for about four years now. I think our friendship started when I asked her to hold back my hair if—or maybe when?—I got too drunk at a capella initiation night. She stared down my shirt, and I don’t think that she knew that I knew until now.” Cynthia Rose’s mouth dropped open, turning to Hayley with her eyes wide as the blonde simply laughed. “Don’t worry, everyone, it was before she and Hayley were dating.”

 

“So CR was also one of the first people to figure out that my main redeeming quality was not just my boobs,” Stacie continued. “Which, let’s be honest are pretty great.”

 

“Yeah, they are,” Aubrey muttered, ducking as Chloe chucked a grape tomato at her, hitting Beca in the eye on her second attempt.

 

“What the fuck happened to your aim, Beale?” Beca dramatically rubbed her eye as Chloe placed kisses on the back of her hand. In reality, her eye had been mostly closed as she’d been gearing up for a sneeze, but she’d never really been one to stop Chloe when she was trying to take care of her.

 

Staring directly at Beca and Chloe, Stacie cleared her throat. “Anyways. CR was able to look past any façade I was putting up, pushing me to branch out and be the giant nerd that I truly am while also keeping me from doing anything truly _too_ stupid. There was this one time with a tiki hut, an ice luge, and a pool where—“

 

“—Um, Stace? Maybe not with my grandmother around?” Cynthia Rose raised her hand while Hayley smiled broadly at the elderly woman in question, leaning over to engage her in some sort of distracting conversation.

 

“Right. See, there she goes again.” An appreciative chuckle spread around the room as Stacie took a sip of her champagne. “But CR was also always there for me any time I was too stubborn to listen to her advice and did that nonsense anyways, or just when I got hurt in general. She’d drop pretty much anything even when I was trying my best to pretend that I was fine, or even if I refused to tell her what was actually going on.” Her face contorted for a moment, eyes glancing over at Aubrey, who swallowed heavily before cracking a small smile that seemed to immediately break Stacie out of whatever funk she’d momentarily dropped into.

 

“Because, as I’m sure you all know,” Stacie said. “That’s just who she is. She can be both the life of the party and everyone’s mom, your craziest accomplice and the person pulling you back when you’re truly gonna screw something up. And she’s _damn_ talented, of course, and going to kill it as a songwriter in the future.”

 

“So here’s to Cynthia Rose and that hot as hell Southern Belle that she locked down. May they have many children when either Hayley or I perfect the science—I’m racing you on that, by the way—and anyone who wants the full version of that Tiki story, I’m over at table one. To CR and Hayley!”

 

Stacie hopped off the stage to a round of applause, pulling a mock bow before taking her seat and grinning innocently at Cynthia Rose’s panicked stare. Beca spat out her mouthful of cake when CR’s grandmother leaned around Hayley to give Stacie a high five, saying something that looked distinctly to Beca and her amateur lip-reading skills like “that tiki one is my favorite story.”

 

“Admittedly more tame than I expected,” Aubrey mused, passing Beca her napkin.

 

“I mean, she’s apparently very good at keeping secrets when she wants to.” Chloe’s tone was slightly hardened, and Beca looked back and forth in confusion between Aubrey and Chloe before Chloe broke down into laughter, reaching around Beca’s back to punch Aubrey lightly in the shoulder. “I’m just kidding, Bree, don’t worry.”

 

“I’d hope so. Not like you have too much of a leg to stand on.”

 

“Good point,” Beca said, leaning into Chloe’s shoulder and feeling the other girl’s head nestle in against the top of her own. “But hey, it worked out for everyone, right?”

 

She looked up just in time to see Stacie blowing a kiss across the room towards Aubrey, who blushed a deeper shade than Beca thought was possible for Aubrey Posen, taking a sip of her champagne before winking back at her girlfriend. “Please tell me we don’t look that absurd,” Beca whispered into Chloe’s ear.

 

“Oh, we’ve gotten pretty dumb sometimes. And we weren’t even dating.” Beca’s face flushed as a kiss was pressed against her temple. “But hey, I like that cutesy stuff. And I know you do too, even if you try your best not to.”

 

“You’ve gotta stop ruining my badass persona, Chlo.”

 

“That’s been gone for a while, babe.” She gave Beca’s hand a light squeeze, thumb tracing the lines on the inside of her palm. “But I like the mushy dork that I found underneath.”

 

And Beca had nothing to say, because she couldn’t help but love the fact that Chloe had seen every layer of her, past the barbs she put up to simultaneously protect herself and test anyone who dared to get close, past the eyeliner that kept her in a brooding scowl no matter how she actually felt, and finally past the nonchalance that hid how truly, deeply she cared about just about everything and how much it broke her to not always be perfect. Chloe had seen all of that; hell, Chloe had felt the worst brunt of most of it. But Beca couldn’t even say that she’d always come back, because Chloe had refused to ever even leave, if anything holding on tighter and moving closer with a grip that would have felt suffocating from anyone else, but just made Beca feel safe and cared for and more than just enough.

 

As the Zetas rang cowbells that they’d pulled out of hell knows where, Beca placed her free hand on top of Chloe’s wrist, right over that stupid ladybug tattoo that she’d first seen at the activities fair, and just let it all wash over her for once. Chloe was laughing, Chloe was there, and Chloe was all she needed. 

* * *

By the time Kelly’s speech had ended, Chloe’s buzz had lightened up a bit. Not that it was necessarily a bad thing, because missing Aubrey with two different grape tomatoes had honestly been embarrassing, and they probably had a long night ahead of all of them (or at least Chloe had plans for herself and Beca that would likely extend the evening beyond just the reception). Regardless, she didn’t fight too much when Stacie dragged her, along with Beca, Emily, and Aubrey to the bar for shots, saying that “21 somewhere was the new ‘five o’clock’ somewhere” as she handed a half-shot to the youngest Bella even as Aubrey stared her down.

 

The three older girls stayed at the bar for another round as Emily ran off to join the small group on the dance floor, including Benji, of course, when ‘Shut Up and Dance’ came on. Chloe even caught Beca tapping her fingers along the bar to the beat, laughing when the DJ tried to play it off as impatience with the bartender.

 

“Oh shut up,” Beca muttered, passing a shot glass to Chloe. “It’s a good song. I can be moody and alternative any other day of the year.”

 

“What the hell did you do to her, Red?” Stacie asked, only grinning more widely at Beca’s glare.

 

Chloe was spared having to come up with an answer that was anything but cheesy as they tossed back the shot glasses, Aubrey proving her strange resistance to alcohol with not even a wince while Beca squirmed at the acrid taste, eyes shut.

 

“I mean, with that reaction, how did any of you ever think that she was some sort of hardcore rocker chick?” Aubrey’s light tone was probably the only thing that saved her from Beca’s tiny fists of fury, and Stacie dragged her off towards the center of the hall as the music slowed for the brides’ first dance.

 

So maybe Chloe had a tear in her eye as Cynthia Rose stood on her toes to spin Hayley under her arm, and she couldn’t help but clap as they performed dramatic bows at the end. The playlist clearly became Beca’s soon after, and Chloe could almost hear her critiquing the hired DJ’s technique switching from song to song. Just as she opened her mouth to finally comment, Chloe leaned down, shutting her up with a kiss with probably more tongue than was necessary or appropriate in the situation and taking advantage of her slight daze to make her join the rest of the crowd on the dance floor.

 

Emily and Benji were performing some sort of synchronized dance clearly learned from Mrs. Junk while Jesse and a Zeta did their best to emulate it to their sides. Aubrey was attempting to keep Stacie from grinding on her during ‘Uptown Funk,’ at one point turning around and accidentally (probably) ending up with her hands square on Stacie’s chest as she pushed her backwards.

 

Chloe was snapped out of watching Jessica and Ashley attempt to stay out of the path of Bumper and Amy’s conga line, or pair, more accurately, by the familiar beats of Taylor Swift. “This was _not_ on the playlist you showed to me!” Beca bit her lip, shooting Chloe a wink as she beamed at the positive reactions from the crowd around her. “’How You Get the Girl?’ You’re actually ridiculous.”

 

“Try to pretend you don’t love it,” Beca said, squealing as Chloe pulled her in for a hug. “Gah! I’m not sure how well this whole ‘getting the girl’ thing is working out for my health at this point.”

 

And Chloe had always been amazed by how well Beca could dance when she wasn’t thinking about it. She’d managed to get down the Bella routines after a few years, and Chloe would watch the Kennedy Center performance on occasion just for a glimpse of Beca at the beginning, shaking her hips with that confident expression on her face, but the relaxed Beca that she saw at parties (when she wasn’t headbanging like an idiot) sure as hell could move. Which, of course, hadn’t really made anything easier for Chloe over the years, especially when her self-control failed and she’d given in to drunk Beca’s requests to join her dancing on whatever elevated surface was closest.

 

So, as always, she was laughing as Beca brought them closer together, though this time she no longer had to hide the blush across her face and the way the breath caught in her throat when she felt Beca’s hands brush against her skin. They moved to spin in and out recklessly, crashing into the other Bellas and jumping up and down while belting out the chorus that Beca clearly knew word-for-word until the music suddenly dropped in tempo and volume.

 

Chloe was waiting for Beca to complain about either the inadequate transition or the fact that it was a sappy song from the early 2000s that Beca probably refused to listen to out of a particularly heightened sense of hipster pretension that Chloe was sure she’d had in middle school. Instead, however, Beca turned to face her, an almost nervous smile across her face, and placed one hand on Chloe’s shoulder while slipping the other around her hip.

 

“So I’m not sure whether I should be more surprised that you’re not complaining about ‘Collide,’” Chloe said. “Or that you apparently can ballroom dance?”

 

Beca shrugged. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Beale.” She delicately extended her arm to let Chloe slide out, a spin much different and more precise than their silly ones from before, catching her with a practiced hand as she returned. “My mom may or may not have forced me into these manners classes that also had a dancing section. Some things are just like riding a bike, y’know?”

 

“Oh my god, Beca Mitchell.” Chloe gave the brunette’s hip a squeeze. “Are you telling me that you did the northwestern version of cotillion and never told me? What a missed opportunity to swap stories.”

 

Her dramatic huff and Beca’s groan almost covered each other before Beca slipped in closer, her hands sliding to meet around Chloe’s back as Chloe’s readjusted to hang around her shoulders. “Now, this is feeling a lot more like a middle school dance,” Chlo said.

 

“Wouldn’t really know, “ Beca murmured into her shoulder. “I never went to one of those.”

 

“Can’t say you really missed too much. Boys stood on one side, girls stood on the other. Everyone laughed when the nerd tripped over his shoelaces. Normal kid stuff.” Chloe ran her thumb along the back of Beca’s neck, hearing the smaller girl’s relaxed sigh as she continued. “But I hope you know, Becs, I totes would’ve asked you to go with me.”

 

With a snort, Beca pulled back to meet Chloe’s eyes. “I think you’re killing the moment, Chlo.”

 

And they both knew it was bullshit. For all they knew, the building had collapsed around them, the apocalypse had happened, and they were standing on the last habitable piece of earth, but that moment was pretty much as secure as it could possibly get. It held the sum of all of those moments that they’d been forced to break time and time again, because of boyfriends or Bellas or a need to deny what they had. This time, Chloe answered simply by sliding her hands up to tangle into Beca’s hair and pressing her lips to Beca’s own, that combination of Portland rain and pine needles mixing with the cinnamon whiskey that they’d taken shots of right before.

 

They stayed like that until Chloe’s smile broke the kiss, and Beca stepped up on her toes to place a kiss over the scar above Chloe’s eyebrow. And surprisingly enough, the song was only now ending, though Aubrey and Stacie were watching them with some combined mix of laughter and emotional, coupley sentiment.

 

“I almost feel like I’ve seen it a thousand times,” Stacie said, pressing a hand across her heart and fluttering her eyes.

 

“I’ve certainly heard about it a thousand times,” Aubrey replied. “And that was only our senior year.”

 

Beca stepped back with a snort, hand reaching for Chloe’s even as she turned to face Aubrey. “So she talked about me a lot, huh?”

 

Aubrey raised an eyebrow. “You were pretty much our sole topic of conversation at a certain point. That and why she was failing Russian lit when she’s fluent.”

 

“You’re fluent in Russian?” Beca smacked Chloe lightly in the stomach. “What the actual hell? You couldn’t have picked something that you’re actually bad at to fail?”

 

“Well, I couldn’t really find anything,” Chloe said, prompting a simultaneous eye roll from Aubrey and Beca. “It seemed the most reasonable to anyone who didn’t know?”

 

Beca shook her head slowly. “You’re really something else, y’know?”

 

Chloe swept Beca up into another kiss, ignoring Aubrey’s fake retching and Stacie’s wolf whistle until the song turned to Maroon 5. Beca’s hand around her waist, they made their way back into the crowd to watch Bumper attempt his best Adam Levine impression.

* * *

The sun was setting as the wedding party made their way outside. Lilly had somehow gotten hold of a large number of doves, releasing them over Cynthia Rose and Hayley’s heads as they ran out the door of the reception hall. The Bellas and Zetas clustered at opposite ends of the waiting limousine, one girl having to be pulled, protesting, away from Jesse, who she’d spent the whole evening dancing with.

 

When she’d finally managed to let go of her wife’s hand, Cynthia Rose jogged over to the waiting Bellas, who almost crushed her in a hug before she leaned against the limo. “So you all do your best to not die while I’m out of the country, okay? Em, you’re in charge.”

 

Emily’s eyes bugged out as she began stammering something that sounded vaguely like over-emotional congratulations, eventually settling for just hugging Cynthia Rose again.

 

Stacie stepped in next, smiling down at her best friend with mascara running down her cheeks. “Now don’t go and get too boring on us just because you’re married and all, okay?” She sniffled heavily, patting Cynthia Rose on the shoulder. “I’m gonna miss you.”

 

“I’ll miss you too, Stace.” Cynthia Rose jerked her head over to Aubrey. “You take care of her, all right?”

 

“That’s the plan,” Aubrey said, taking Stacie’s hand as she rejoined the semi-circle.

 

They continued around until Cynthia Rose came to Beca and Chloe. She shook her head with a chuckle before pulling them both in for a hug. “I always knew you two would work out in the end. Even if it took me losing a hundred bucks.”

 

Beca felt tears welling up in her eyes and wasn’t even willing to scowl to cover them. “You know you’re coming out to LA to visit, right? Like it’s not even a question. You’re a songwriter, I’ll probably know people? It’s happening.”

 

“You got it, Becs.” With a final hug to Chloe and Stacie (of course), she slipped into the limousine, closely followed by Hayley. The car took off with a clattering sound as the cans tied to the bottom rolled against the gravel, mingling with the sound of cheers and whistles as they faded into the distance.

 

The crowd dissipated slowly, some heading back into the barn while others walked towards their cars or off into the farm’s fields. Beca waited for Chloe to make any sort of move, but she stayed still, hand back in Beca’s as it had been for most of the night. At the sound of Chloe’s throat clearing, Beca looked up.

 

“So Cynthia Rose is gonna come visit LA, huh?” Beca nodded cautiously, watching Chloe’s eyes. “Probably means that you’ll have some crazy house party with your music industry friends. Any chance I’m allowed to crash?”

 

“See, I was thinking about that,” Beca replied. “And, you know, since neither of us got that thousand dollars, and I’ve heard LA is kind of expensive, there’s a kind of okay solution? Maybe? I mean, I’m not starting out exactly making Calvin Harris-type money, and I don’t know if they give grad students stipends or anything, but maybe, possibly, would you want to like—“

 

Chloe broke Beca’s rambling off, kissing her hard and fast and leaving Beca stumbling in a way that made her very happy that no one was around. When she’d finally caught her breath, she dared to glance back up at Chloe. “Um, so is that a yes?”

 

“Oh my god, you giant dork,” Chloe groaned. “Yes, Beca. I would love to move in with you.”

 

“I mean, that’s awkward. I was going to ask you if you wanted to share a cab from the airport with me.”

 

“Rebeca Renee Mitchell, don’t you _dare_ —“

 

“—Okay, okay!” Beca took Chloe by both hands, leaning in so they were trapped between their bodies. “Chloe Beale, I would love it if you’d move in with me.”

 

The following kiss was much slower, their lips just barely parting before Beca felt Chloe’s shiver at the cool night hair. She pulled her in closer, settling for warmth by committee, because if it worked for penguins in Antarctica, it could probably work for two lovesick dumbasses in Maine. “You broke out the Renee, huh? I’m kind of scared now.”

 

“You probably never should’ve told me,” Chloe said, voice low.

 

“If I remember correctly, it was under the duress of you straddling me and threatening me with tickling. I’m pretty sure that falls under cruel and unusual punishment.”

 

“Well, if _I_ remember correctly, you didn’t complain too much about the straddling last night.”

 

Beca did her best to cover her own very obvious shiver from anything but the temperature by swatting Chloe in the arm before sprinting off towards the reception hall, Chloe shouting after her as she followed in pursuit. 

* * *

 

 

_The Very Unnecessary Epilogue_

 

“I think I’m dying.” Beca’s hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white as she stared out at the freeway in front of the car. “Did I mention that I hate driving?”

 

Chloe sighed, waggling her toes back and forth on top of the glove compartment, arm hanging lazily out the window. “You know, I _did_ offer to drive.”

 

“Okay, well then I’d definitely be dying,” Beca said, blaring the horn at the car that had just changed lanes to cut in front of her in the line of traffic. “Remind me why I’m doing this again?”

 

“Because they’re our friends and you love them and I told you to.” Chloe pressed a kiss to the side of Beca’s head. “You’re whipped, babe. Don’t try to deny it.”

 

“I produced a song that made the top 100 last week. You’d think I could at least afford a car with air conditioning in Los Angeles.”

 

Chloe fiddled idly with the dial of the radio as Beca let out a whoop when she finally eased the car off the freeway. “Uh huh, Miss Modest. Try to pretend that you don’t know that it’s number twenty-seven right now.”

 

“Twenty-four, actually,” Beca replied. “But who’s keeping track?”

 

“I _am_ the one that made you that whiteboard for that very purpose.”

 

“And I love my very student achievement-esque whiteboard. Not so much the chore chart that you brought home with it.” Barely hitting the brake in time to avoid a crossing pedestrian, Beca let out a groan as her head hit the top of her seat. “Okay, so maybe I’m okay with the chore rewards from the chart.”

 

“There we go,” Chloe said, shooting Beca a wink the second she could. There was something about the fact that it still made Beca visibly flustered at this point that made Chloe so undeniably, perfectly happy. So she sat there with a ridiculous grin on her face despite Beca filling the car with a cloud of curses while searching for a parking spot, even managing to fight back the instinctive chiding phrases she’d picked up after a few months of student teaching.

 

And yes, Chloe realized that she looked a bit like an idiot, dragging her girlfriend by the hand across the walkway to the terminal, almost getting them crushed by a trailer when Chloe decided the stop light did not apply to them. Beca tried her best to complain as Chloe waited patiently until that exact moment when the furrow in her eyebrows got absurdly defined, signaling that she was about to launch into a particularly long monologue and prompting Chloe to kiss her senseless, until even the hands balled into fists dropped against her sides and made their way up to Chloe’s waist.

 

“Feeling better?” Chloe asked.

 

“Yuh huh.” It was slightly dazed, and Chloe turned Beca back towards the door of the terminal, slipping her hand into the back pocket of Beca’s jeans and giving her ass an appreciative squeeze as they entered the building.

 

It was hard to miss Stacie and the heels that even med school had not broken her of wearing yet. She let out a squeal and sprinted over the second she saw Chloe, giving her a hug that knocked the wind out of her as Aubrey and Beca shared a mutual eye roll at their overly enthusiastic counterparts.

 

By the time Chloe and Stacie had detached themselves, Beca had pulled Aubrey in for a hug, the blonde eventually relaxing after a moment. “Well, that’s new,” Aubrey said, looking over to Chloe. “You’ve taught her well.”

 

“I mean, I _am_ in grad school to teach kids. Might as well bring something useful home.” Chloe embraced Aubrey as Stacie and Beca followed suit, the four eventually facing each other in a circle as they pulled back. “So how was the flight?”

 

“Security’s an absolute bitch,” Stacie said as Aubrey sighed.

 

“Security’s only a problem if you start yelling about unnecessary pat-downs all the time, Stace.”

 

“It’s not my fault that even a sports bra can’t fully contain the ladies. Try to pretend you don’t love it.”

 

Beca turned away from the bickering pair, standing on her toes to whisper into Chloe’s ear. “We never look like that, do we?”

 

Chloe glanced over to Aubrey and Stacie, grinning as Stacie lightly tilted Aubrey’s chin up for a kiss. “Kinda, yeah sometimes.”

 

Beca watched for a moment, chewing her lip before she turned to Chloe. “I like it.” She placed a kiss on her girlfriend’s lips, slinging an arm around her waist before staring pointedly at the other two. “So are you two gonna make out here all day, or can we get back home?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit. It’s done. I really don’t know how to feel and I’m probably gonna be a narcissistic ass and make some video on Tumblr thanking you all later because you guys are amazing. As I’ve said, I’m not really much of a writer, and all of you wonderful people talking to me and reading and just being fabulous allowed me to actually somehow finish this. So, I have to wake up for work in four and a half hours, which is gonna be fun (at the time of this writing, not this posting). Y’all are the bees’ knees, please never change. Come yell at me on Tumblr over at bicamitchell. Headcanons, shouting, whatever. At this point, can’t really spoil much, right? And for real this time, peace out, my aca-people.


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